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diff --git a/old/rdst10h.htm b/old/rdst10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3132ede --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rdst10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10640 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> +<title>Rodney Stone</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Rodney Stone, by Arthur Conan Doyle</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rodney Stone, by Arthur Conan Doyle +(#31 in our series by Arthur Conan Doyle) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Rodney Stone + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5148] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 14, 2002] +[Most recently updated: May 14, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p> +<a name="startoftext"></a> +Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk, from the 1921 +Eveleigh Nash & Grayson edition.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +RODNEY STONE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +PREFACE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Amongst the books to which I am indebted for my material in my endeavour +to draw various phases of life and character in England at the beginning +of the century, I would particularly mention Ashton’s “Dawn +of the Nineteenth Century;” Gronow’s “Reminiscences;” +Fitzgerald’s “Life and Times of George IV.;” Jesse’s +“Life of Brummell;” “Boxiana;” “Pugilistica;” +Harper’s “Brighton Road;” Robinson’s “Last +Earl of Barrymore” and “Old Q.;” Rice’s “History +of the Turf;” Tristram’s “Coaching Days;” James’s +“Naval History;” Clark Russell’s “Collingwood” +and “Nelson.”<br> +<br> +I am also much indebted to my friends Mr. J. C. Parkinson and Robert +Barr for information upon the subject of the ring.<br> +<br> +A. CONAN DOYLE.<br> +HASLEMERE,<br> +September 1, 1896.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER I - FRIAR’S OAK<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On this, the first of January of the year 1851, the nineteenth century +has reached its midway term, and many of us who shared its youth have +already warnings which tell us that it has outworn us. We put +our grizzled heads together, we older ones, and we talk of the great +days that we have known; but we find that when it is with our children +that we talk it is a hard matter to make them understand. We and +our fathers before us lived much the same life, but they with their +railway trains and their steamboats belong to a different age. +It is true that we can put history-books into their hands, and they +can read from them of our weary struggle of two and twenty years with +that great and evil man. They can learn how Freedom fled from +the whole broad continent, and how Nelson’s blood was shed, and +Pitt’s noble heart was broken in striving that she should not +pass us for ever to take refuge with our brothers across the Atlantic. +All this they can read, with the date of this treaty or that battle, +but I do not know where they are to read of ourselves, of the folk we +were, and the lives we led, and how the world seemed to our eyes when +they were young as theirs are now.<br> +<br> +If I take up my pen to tell you about this, you must not look for any +story at my hands, for I was only in my earliest manhood when these +things befell; and although I saw something of the stories of other +lives, I could scarce claim one of my own. It is the love of a +woman that makes the story of a man, and many a year was to pass before +I first looked into the eyes of the mother of my children. To +us it seems but an affair of yesterday, and yet those children can now +reach the plums in the garden whilst we are seeking for a ladder, and +where we once walked with their little hands in ours, we are glad now +to lean upon their arms. But I shall speak of a time when the +love of a mother was the only love I knew, and if you seek for something +more, then it is not for you that I write. But if you would come +out with me into that forgotten world; if you would know Boy Jim and +Champion Harrison; if you would meet my father, one of Nelson’s +own men; if you would catch a glimpse of that great seaman himself, +and of George, afterwards the unworthy King of England; if, above all, +you would see my famous uncle, Sir Charles Tregellis, the King of the +Bucks, and the great fighting men whose names are still household words +amongst you, then give me your hand and let us start.<br> +<br> +But I must warn you also that, if you think you will find much that +is of interest in your guide, you are destined to disappointment. +When I look over my bookshelves, I can see that it is only the wise +and witty and valiant who have ventured to write down their experiences. +For my own part, if I were only assured that I was as clever and brave +as the average man about me, I should be well satisfied. Men of +their hands have thought well of my brains, and men of brains of my +hands, and that is the best that I can say of myself. Save in +the one matter of having an inborn readiness for music, so that the +mastery of any instrument comes very easily and naturally to me, I cannot +recall any single advantage which I can boast over my fellows. +In all things I have been a half-way man, for I am of middle height, +my eyes are neither blue nor grey, and my hair, before Nature dusted +it with her powder, was betwixt flaxen and brown. I may, perhaps, +claim this: that through life I have never felt a touch of jealousy +as I have admired a better man than myself, and that I have always seen +all things as they are, myself included, which should count in my favour +now that I sit down in my mature age to write my memories. With +your permission, then, we will push my own personality as far as possible +out of the picture. If you can conceive me as a thin and colourless +cord upon which my would-be pearls are strung, you will be accepting +me upon the terms which I should wish.<br> +<br> +Our family, the Stones, have for many generations belonged to the navy, +and it has been a custom among us for the eldest son to take the name +of his father’s favourite commander. Thus we can trace our +lineage back to old Vernon Stone, who commanded a high-sterned, peak-nosed, +fifty-gun ship against the Dutch. Through Hawke Stone and Benbow +Stone we came down to my father, Anson Stone, who in his turn christened +me Rodney, at the parish church of St. Thomas at Portsmouth in the year +of grace 1786.<br> +<br> +Out of my window as I write I can see my own great lad in the garden, +and if I were to call out “Nelson!” you would see that I +have been true to the traditions of our family.<br> +<br> +My dear mother, the best that ever a man had, was the second daughter +of the Reverend John Tregellis, Vicar of Milton, which is a small parish +upon the borders of the marshes of Langstone. She came of a poor +family, but one of some position, for her elder brother was the famous +Sir Charles Tregellis, who, having inherited the money of a wealthy +East Indian merchant, became in time the talk of the town and the very +particular friend of the Prince of Wales. Of him I shall have +more to say hereafter; but you will note now that he was my own uncle, +and brother to my mother.<br> +<br> +I can remember her all through her beautiful life for she was but a +girl when she married, and little more when I can first recall her busy +fingers and her gentle voice. I see her as a lovely woman with +kind, dove’s eyes, somewhat short of stature it is true, but carrying +herself very bravely. In my memories of those days she is clad +always in some purple shimmering stuff, with a white kerchief round +her long white neck, and I see her fingers turning and darting as she +works at her knitting. I see her again in her middle years, sweet +and loving, planning, contriving, achieving, with the few shillings +a day of a lieutenant’s pay on which to support the cottage at +Friar’s Oak, and to keep a fair face to the world. And now, +if I do but step into the parlour, I can see her once more, with over +eighty years of saintly life behind her, silver-haired, placid-faced, +with her dainty ribboned cap, her gold-rimmed glasses, and her woolly +shawl with the blue border. I loved her young and I love her old, +and when she goes she will take something with her which nothing in +the world can ever make good to me again. You may have many friends, +you who read this, and you may chance to marry more than once, but your +mother is your first and your last. Cherish her, then, whilst +you may, for the day will come when every hasty deed or heedless word +will come back with its sting to hive in your own heart.<br> +<br> +Such, then, was my mother; and as to my father, I can describe him best +when I come to the time when he returned to us from the Mediterranean. +During all my childhood he was only a name to me, and a face in a miniature +hung round my mother’s neck. At first they told me he was +fighting the French, and then after some years one heard less about +the French and more about General Buonaparte. I remember the awe +with which one day in Thomas Street, Portsmouth, I saw a print of the +great Corsican in a bookseller’s window. This, then, was +the arch enemy with whom my father spent his life in terrible and ceaseless +contest. To my childish imagination it was a personal affair, +and I for ever saw my father and this clean-shaven, thin-lipped man +swaying and reeling in a deadly, year-long grapple. It was not +until I went to the Grammar School that I understood how many other +little boys there were whose fathers were in the same case.<br> +<br> +Only once in those long years did my father return home, which will +show you what it meant to be the wife of a sailor in those days. +It was just after we had moved from Portsmouth to Friar’s Oak, +whither he came for a week before he set sail with Admiral Jervis to +help him to turn his name into Lord St. Vincent. I remember that +he frightened as well as fascinated me with his talk of battles, and +I can recall as if it were yesterday the horror with which I gazed upon +a spot of blood upon his shirt ruffle, which had come, as I have no +doubt, from a mischance in shaving. At the time I never questioned +that it had spurted from some stricken Frenchman or Spaniard, and I +shrank from him in terror when he laid his horny hand upon my head. +My mother wept bitterly when he was gone, but for my own part I was +not sorry to see his blue back and white shorts going down the garden +walk, for I felt, with the heedless selfishness of a child, that we +were closer together, she and I, when we were alone.<br> +<br> +I was in my eleventh year when we moved from Portsmouth to Friar’s +Oak, a little Sussex village to the north of Brighton, which was recommended +to us by my uncle, Sir Charles Tregellis, one of whose grand friends, +Lord Avon, had had his seat near there. The reason of our moving +was that living was cheaper in the country, and that it was easier for +my mother to keep up the appearance of a gentlewoman when away from +the circle of those to whom she could not refuse hospitality. +They were trying times those to all save the farmers, who made such +profits that they could, as I have heard, afford to let half their land +lie fallow, while living like gentlemen upon the rest. Wheat was +at a hundred and ten shillings a quarter, and the quartern loaf at one +and ninepence. Even in the quiet of the cottage of Friar’s +Oak we could scarce have lived, were it not that in the blockading squadron +in which my father was stationed there was the occasional chance of +a little prize-money. The line-of-battle ships themselves, tacking +on and off outside Brest, could earn nothing save honour; but the frigates +in attendance made prizes of many coasters, and these, as is the rule +of the service, were counted as belonging to the fleet, and their produce +divided into head-money. In this manner my father was able to +send home enough to keep the cottage and to pay for me at the day school +of Mr. Joshua Allen, where for four years I learned all that he had +to teach. It was at Allen’s school that I first knew Jim +Harrison, Boy Jim as he has always been called, the nephew of Champion +Harrison of the village smithy. I can see him as he was in those +days with great, floundering, half-formed limbs like a Newfoundland +puppy, and a face that set every woman’s head round as he passed +her. It was in those days that we began our lifelong friendship, +a friendship which still in our waning years binds us closely as two +brothers. I taught him his exercises, for he never loved the sight +of a book, and he in turn made me box and wrestle, tickle trout on the +Adur, and snare rabbits on Ditching Down, for his hands were as active +as his brain was slow. He was two years my elder, however, so +that, long before I had finished my schooling, he had gone to help his +uncle at the smithy.<br> +<br> +Friar’s Oak is in a dip of the Downs, and the forty-third milestone +between London and Brighton lies on the skirt of the village. +It is but a small place, with an ivied church, a fine vicarage, and +a row of red-brick cottages each in its own little garden. At +one end was the forge of Champion Harrison, with his house behind it, +and at the other was Mr. Allen’s school. The yellow cottage, +standing back a little from the road, with its upper story bulging forward +and a crisscross of black woodwork let into the plaster, is the one +in which we lived. I do not know if it is still standing, but +I should think it likely, for it was not a place much given to change.<br> +<br> +Just opposite to us, at the other side of the broad, white road, was +the Friar’s Oak Inn, which was kept in my day by John Cummings, +a man of excellent repute at home, but liable to strange outbreaks when +he travelled, as will afterwards become apparent. Though there +was a stream of traffic upon the road, the coaches from Brighton were +too fresh to stop, and those from London too eager to reach their journey’s +end, so that if it had not been for an occasional broken trace or loosened +wheel, the landlord would have had only the thirsty throats of the village +to trust to. Those were the days when the Prince of Wales had +just built his singular palace by the sea, and so from May to September, +which was the Brighton season, there was never a day that from one to +two hundred curricles, chaises, and phaetons did not rattle past our +doors. Many a summer evening have Boy Jim and I lain upon the +grass, watching all these grand folk, and cheering the London coaches +as they came roaring through the dust clouds, leaders and wheelers stretched +to their work, the bugles screaming and the coachmen with their low-crowned, +curly-brimmed hats, and their faces as scarlet as their coats. +The passengers used to laugh when Boy Jim shouted at them, but if they +could have read his big, half-set limbs and his loose shoulders aright, +they would have looked a little harder at him, perhaps, and given him +back his cheer.<br> +<br> +Boy Jim had never known a father or a mother, and his whole life had +been spent with his uncle, Champion Harrison. Harrison was the +Friar’s Oak blacksmith, and he had his nickname because he fought +Tom Johnson when he held the English belt, and would most certainly +have beaten him had the Bedfordshire magistrates not appeared to break +up the fight. For years there was no such glutton to take punishment +and no more finishing hitter than Harrison, though he was always, as +I understand, a slow one upon his feet. At last, in a fight with +Black Baruk the Jew, he finished the battle with such a lashing hit +that he not only knocked his opponent over the inner ropes, but he left +him betwixt life and death for long three weeks. During all this +time Harrison lived half demented, expecting every hour to feel the +hand of a Bow Street runner upon his collar, and to be tried for his +life. This experience, with the prayers of his wife, made him +forswear the ring for ever, and carry his great muscles into the one +trade in which they seemed to give him an advantage. There was +a good business to be done at Friar’s Oak from the passing traffic +and the Sussex farmers, so that he soon became the richest of the villagers; +and he came to church on a Sunday with his wife and his nephew, looking +as respectable a family man as one would wish to see.<br> +<br> +He was not a tall man, not more than five feet seven inches, and it +was often said that if he had had an extra inch of reach he would have +been a match for Jackson or Belcher at their best. His chest was +like a barrel, and his forearms were the most powerful that I have ever +seen, with deep groves between the smooth-swelling muscles like a piece +of water-worn rock. In spite of his strength, however, he was +of a slow, orderly, and kindly disposition, so that there was no man +more beloved over the whole country side. His heavy, placid, clean-shaven +face could set very sternly, as I have seen upon occasion; but for me +and every child in the village there was ever a smile upon his lips +and a greeting in his eyes. There was not a beggar upon the country +side who did not know that his heart was as soft as his muscles were +hard.<br> +<br> +There was nothing that he liked to talk of more than his old battles, +but he would stop if he saw his little wife coming, for the one great +shadow in her life was the ever-present fear that some day he would +throw down sledge and rasp and be off to the ring once more. And +you must be reminded here once for all that that former calling of his +was by no means at that time in the debased condition to which it afterwards +fell. Public opinion has gradually become opposed to it, for the +reason that it came largely into the hands of rogues, and because it +fostered ringside ruffianism. Even the honest and brave pugilist +was found to draw villainy round him, just as the pure and noble racehorse +does. For this reason the Ring is dying in England, and we may +hope that when Caunt and Bendigo have passed away, they may have none +to succeed them. But it was different in the days of which I speak. +Public opinion was then largely in its favour, and there were good reasons +why it should be so. It was a time of war, when England with an +army and navy composed only of those who volunteered to fight because +they had fighting blood in them, had to encounter, as they would now +have to encounter, a power which could by despotic law turn every citizen +into a soldier. If the people had not been full of this lust for +combat, it is certain that England must have been overborne. And +it was thought, and is, on the face of it, reasonable, that a struggle +between two indomitable men, with thirty thousand to view it and three +million to discuss it, did help to set a standard of hardihood and endurance. +Brutal it was, no doubt, and its brutality is the end of it; but it +is not so brutal as war, which will survive it. Whether it is +logical now to teach the people to be peaceful in an age when their +very existence may come to depend upon their being warlike, is a question +for wiser heads than mine. But that was what we thought of it +in the days of your grandfathers, and that is why you might find statesmen +and philanthropists like Windham, Fox, and Althorp at the side of the +Ring.<br> +<br> +The mere fact that solid men should patronize it was enough in itself +to prevent the villainy which afterwards crept in. For over twenty +years, in the days of Jackson, Brain, Cribb, the Belchers, Pearce, Gully, +and the rest, the leaders of the Ring were men whose honesty was above +suspicion; and those were just the twenty years when the Ring may, as +I have said, have served a national purpose. You have heard how +Pearce saved the Bristol girl from the burning house, how Jackson won +the respect and friendship of the best men of his age, and how Gully +rose to a seat in the first Reformed Parliament. These were the +men who set the standard, and their trade carried with it this obvious +recommendation, that it is one in which no drunken or foul-living man +could long succeed. There were exceptions among them, no doubt +- bullies like Hickman and brutes like Berks; in the main, I say again +that they were honest men, brave and enduring to an incredible degree, +and a credit to the country which produced them. It was, as you +will see, my fate to see something of them, and I speak of what I know.<br> +<br> +In our own village, I can assure you that we were very proud of the +presence of such a man as Champion Harrison, and if folks stayed at +the inn, they would walk down as far as the smithy just to have the +sight of him. And he was worth seeing, too, especially on a winter’s +night when the red glare of the forge would beat upon his great muscles +and upon the proud, hawk-face of Boy Jim as they heaved and swayed over +some glowing plough coulter, framing themselves in sparks with every +blow. He would strike once with his thirty-pound swing sledge, +and Jim twice with his hand hammer; and the “Clunk - clink, clink! +clunk - clink, clink!” would bring me flying down the village +street, on the chance that, since they were both at the anvil, there +might be a place for me at the bellows.<br> +<br> +Only once during those village years can I remember Champion Harrison +showing me for an instant the sort of man that he had been. It +chanced one summer morning, when Boy Jim and I were standing by the +smithy door, that there came a private coach from Brighton, with its +four fresh horses, and its brass-work shining, flying along with such +a merry rattle and jingling, that the Champion came running out with +a hall-fullered shoe in his tongs to have a look at it. A gentleman +in a white coachman’s cape - a Corinthian, as we would call him +in those days - was driving, and half a dozen of his fellows, laughing +and shouting, were on the top behind him. It may have been that +the bulk of the smith caught his eye, and that he acted in pure wantonness, +or it may possibly have been an accident, but, as he swung past, the +twenty-foot thong of the driver’s whip hissed round, and we heard +the sharp snap of it across Harrison’s leather apron.<br> +<br> +“Halloa, master!” shouted the smith, looking after him. +“You’re not to be trusted on the box until you can handle +your whip better’n that.”<br> +<br> +“What’s that?” cried the driver, pulling up his team.<br> +<br> +“I bid you have a care, master, or there will be some one-eyed +folk along the road you drive.”<br> +<br> +“Oh, you say that, do you?” said the driver, putting his +whip into its socket and pulling off his driving-gloves. “I’ll +have a little talk with you, my fine fellow.”<br> +<br> +The sporting gentlemen of those days were very fine boxers for the most +part, for it was the mode to take a course of Mendoza, just as a few +years afterwards there was no man about town who had not had the mufflers +on with Jackson. Knowing their own prowess, they never refused +the chance of a wayside adventure, and it was seldom indeed that the +bargee or the navigator had much to boast of after a young blood had +taken off his coat to him.<br> +<br> +This one swung himself off the box-seat with the alacrity of a man who +has no doubts about the upshot of the quarrel, and after hanging his +caped coat upon the swingle-bar, he daintily turned up the ruffled cuffs +of his white cambric shirt.<br> +<br> +“I’ll pay you for your advice, my man,” said he.<br> +<br> +I am sure that the men upon the coach knew who the burly smith was, +and looked upon it as a prime joke to see their companion walk into +such a trap. They roared with delight, and bellowed out scraps +of advice to him.<br> +<br> +“Knock some of the soot off him, Lord Frederick!” they shouted. +“Give the Johnny Raw his breakfast. Chuck him in among his +own cinders! Sharp’s the word, or you’ll see the back +of him.”<br> +<br> +Encouraged by these cries, the young aristocrat advanced upon his man. +The smith never moved, but his mouth set grim and hard, while his tufted +brows came down over his keen, grey eyes. The tongs had fallen, +and his hands were hanging free.<br> +<br> +“Have a care, master,” said he. “You’ll +get pepper if you don’t.”<br> +<br> +Something in the assured voice, and something also in the quiet pose, +warned the young lord of his danger. I saw him look hard at his +antagonist, and as he did so, his hands and his jaw dropped together.<br> +<br> +“By Gad!” he cried, “it’s Jack Harrison!”<br> +<br> +“My name, master!”<br> +<br> +“And I thought you were some Essex chaw-bacon! Why, man, +I haven’t seen you since the day you nearly killed Black Baruk, +and cost me a cool hundred by doing it.”<br> +<br> +How they roared on the coach.<br> +<br> +“Smoked! Smoked, by Gad!” they yelled. “It’s +Jack Harrison the bruiser! Lord Frederick was going to take on +the ex-champion. Give him one on the apron, Fred, and see what +happens.”<br> +<br> +But the driver had already climbed back into his perch, laughing as +loudly as any of his companions.<br> +<br> +“We’ll let you off this time, Harrison,” said he. +“Are those your sons down there?”<br> +<br> +“This is my nephew, master.”<br> +<br> +“Here’s a guinea for him! He shall never say I robbed +him of his uncle.” And so, having turned the laugh in his +favour by his merry way of taking it, he cracked his whip, and away +they flew to make London under the five hours; while Jack Harrison, +with his half-fullered shoe in his hand, went whistling back to the +forge.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II - THE WALKER OF CLIFFE ROYAL<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +So much for Champion Harrison! Now, I wish to say something more +about Boy Jim, not only because he was the comrade of my youth, but +because you will find as you go on that this book is his story rather +than mine, and that there came a time when his name and his fame were +in the mouths of all England. You will bear with me, therefore, +while I tell you of his character as it was in those days, and especially +of one very singular adventure which neither of us are likely to forget.<br> +<br> +It was strange to see Jim with his uncle and his aunt, for he seemed +to be of another race and breed to them. Often I have watched +them come up the aisle upon a Sunday, first the square, thick-set man, +and then the little, worn, anxious-eyed woman, and last this glorious +lad with his clear-cut face, his black curls, and his step so springy +and light that it seemed as if he were bound to earth by some lesser +tie than the heavy-footed villagers round him. He had not yet +attained his full six foot of stature, but no judge of a man (and every +woman, at least, is one) could look at his perfect shoulders, his narrow +loins, and his proud head that sat upon his neck like an eagle upon +its perch, without feeling that sober joy which all that is beautiful +in Nature gives to us - a vague self-content, as though in some way +we also had a hand in the making of it.<br> +<br> +But we are used to associate beauty with softness in a man. I +do not know why they should be so coupled, and they never were with +Jim. Of all men that I have known, he was the most iron-hard in +body and in mind. Who was there among us who could walk with him, +or run with him, or swim with him? Who on all the country side, +save only Boy Jim, would have swung himself over Wolstonbury Cliff, +and clambered down a hundred feet with the mother hawk flapping at his +ears in the vain struggle to hold him from her nest? He was but +sixteen, with his gristle not yet all set into bone, when he fought +and beat Gipsy Lee, of Burgess Hill, who called himself the “Cock +of the South Downs.” It was after this that Champion Harrison +took his training as a boxer in hand.<br> +<br> +“I’d rather you left millin’ alone, Boy Jim,” +said he, “and so had the missus; but if mill you must, it will +not be my fault if you cannot hold up your hands to anything in the +south country.”<br> +<br> +And it was not long before he made good his promise.<br> +<br> +I have said already that Boy Jim had no love for his books, but by that +I meant school-books, for when it came to the reading of romances or +of anything which had a touch of gallantry or adventure, there was no +tearing him away from it until it was finished. When such a book +came into his hands, Friar’s Oak and the smithy became a dream +to him, and his life was spent out upon the ocean or wandering over +the broad continents with his heroes. And he would draw me into +his enthusiasms also, so that I was glad to play Friday to his Crusoe +when he proclaimed that the Clump at Clayton was a desert island, and +that we were cast upon it for a week. But when I found that we +were actually to sleep out there without covering every night, and that +he proposed that our food should be the sheep of the Downs (wild goats +he called them) cooked upon a fire, which was to be made by the rubbing +together of two sticks, my heart failed me, and on the very first night +I crept away to my mother. But Jim stayed out there for the whole +weary week - a wet week it was, too! - and came back at the end of it +looking a deal wilder and dirtier than his hero does in the picture-books. +It is well that he had only promised to stay a week, for, if it had +been a month, he would have died of cold and hunger before his pride +would have let him come home.<br> +<br> +His pride! - that was the deepest thing in all Jim’s nature. +It is a mixed quality to my mind, half a virtue and half a vice: a virtue +in holding a man out of the dirt; a vice in making it hard for him to +rise when once he has fallen. Jim was proud down to the very marrow +of his bones. You remember the guinea that the young lord had +thrown him from the box of the coach? Two days later somebody +picked it from the roadside mud. Jim only had seen where it had +fallen, and he would not deign even to point it out to a beggar. +Nor would he stoop to give a reason in such a case, but would answer +all remonstrances with a curl of his lip and a flash of his dark eyes. +Even at school he was the same, with such a sense of his own dignity, +that other folk had to think of it too. He might say, as he did +say, that a right angle was a proper sort of angle, or put Panama in +Sicily, but old Joshua Allen would as soon have thought of raising his +cane against him as he would of letting me off if I had said as much. +And so it was that, although Jim was the son of nobody, and I of a King’s +officer, it always seemed to me to have been a condescension on his +part that he should have chosen me as his friend.<br> +<br> +It was this pride of Boy Jim’s which led to an adventure which +makes me shiver now when I think of it.<br> +<br> +It happened in the August of ‘99, or it may have been in the early +days of September; but I remember that we heard the cuckoo in Patcham +Wood, and that Jim said that perhaps it was the last of him. I +was still at school, but Jim had left, he being nigh sixteen and I thirteen. +It was my Saturday half-holiday, and we spent it, as we often did, out +upon the Downs. Our favourite place was beyond Wolstonbury, where +we could stretch ourselves upon the soft, springy, chalk grass among +the plump little Southdown sheep, chatting with the shepherds, as they +leaned upon their queer old Pyecombe crooks, made in the days when Sussex +turned out more iron than all the counties of England.<br> +<br> +It was there that we lay upon that glorious afternoon. If we chose +to roll upon our right sides, the whole weald lay in front of us, with +the North Downs curving away in olive-green folds, with here and there +the snow-white rift of a chalk-pit; if we turned upon our left, we overlooked +the huge blue stretch of the Channel. A convoy, as I can well +remember, was coming up it that day, the timid flock of merchantmen +in front; the frigates, like well-trained dogs, upon the skirts; and +two burly drover line-of-battle ships rolling along behind them. +My fancy was soaring out to my father upon the waters, when a word from +Jim brought it back on to the grass like a broken-winged gull.<br> +<br> +“Roddy,” said he, “have you heard that Cliffe Royal +is haunted?”<br> +<br> +Had I heard it? Of course I had heard it. Who was there +in all the Down country who had not heard of the Walker of Cliffe Royal?<br> +<br> +“Do you know the story of it, Roddy?”<br> +<br> +“Why,” said I, with some pride, “I ought to know it, +seeing that my mother’s brother, Sir Charles Tregellis, was the +nearest friend of Lord Avon, and was at this card-party when the thing +happened. I heard the vicar and my mother talking about it last +week, and it was all so clear to me that I might have been there when +the murder was done.”<br> +<br> +“It is a strange story,” said Jim, thoughtfully; “but +when I asked my aunt about it, she would give me no answer; and as to +my uncle, he cut me short at the very mention of it.”<br> +<br> +“There is a good reason for that,” said I, “for Lord +Avon was, as I have heard, your uncle’s best friend; and it is +but natural that he would not wish to speak of his disgrace.”<br> +<br> +“Tell me the story, Roddy.”<br> +<br> +“It is an old one now - fourteen years old - and yet they have +not got to the end of it. There were four of them who had come +down from London to spend a few days in Lord Avon’s old house. +One was his own young brother, Captain Barrington; another was his cousin, +Sir Lothian Hume; Sir Charles Tregellis, my uncle, was the third; and +Lord Avon the fourth. They are fond of playing cards for money, +these great people, and they played and played for two days and a night. +Lord Avon lost, and Sir Lothian lost, and my uncle lost, and Captain +Barrington won until he could win no more. He won their money, +but above all he won papers from his elder brother which meant a great +deal to him. It was late on a Monday night that they stopped playing. +On the Tuesday morning Captain Barrington was found dead beside his +bed with his throat cut.<br> +<br> +“And Lord Avon did it?”<br> +<br> +“His papers were found burned in the grate, his wristband was +clutched in the dead man’s hand, and his knife lay beside the +body.”<br> +<br> +“Did they hang him, then?”<br> +<br> +“They were too slow in laying hands upon him. He waited +until he saw that they had brought it home to him, and then he fled. +He has never been seen since, but it is said that he reached America.”<br> +<br> +“And the ghost walks?”<br> +<br> +“There are many who have seen it.”<br> +<br> +“Why is the house still empty?”<br> +<br> +“Because it is in the keeping of the law. Lord Avon had +no children, and Sir Lothian Hume - the same who was at the card-party +- is his nephew and heir. But he can touch nothing until he can +prove Lord Avon to be dead.”<br> +<br> +Jim lay silent for a bit, plucking at the short grass with his fingers.<br> +<br> +“Roddy,” said he at last, “will you come with me to-night +and look for the ghost?”<br> +<br> +It turned me cold, the very thought of it.<br> +<br> +“My mother would not let me.”<br> +<br> +“Slip out when she’s abed. I’ll wait for you +at the smithy.”<br> +<br> +“Cliffe Royal is locked.”<br> +<br> +“I’ll open a window easy enough.”<br> +<br> +“I’m afraid, Jim.”<br> +<br> +“But you are not afraid if you are with me, Roddy. I’ll +promise you that no ghost shall hurt you.”<br> +<br> +So I gave him my word that I would come, and then all the rest of the +day I went about the most sad-faced lad in Sussex. It was all +very well for Boy Jim! It was that pride of his which was taking +him there. He would go because there was no one else on the country +side that would dare. But I had no pride of that sort. I +was quite of the same way of thinking as the others, and would as soon +have thought of passing my night at Jacob’s gibbet on Ditchling +Common as in the haunted house of Cliffe Royal. Still, I could +not bring myself to desert Jim; and so, as I say, I slunk about the +house with so pale and peaky a face that my dear mother would have it +that I had been at the green apples, and sent me to bed early with a +dish of camomile tea for my supper.<br> +<br> +England went to rest betimes in those days, for there were few who could +afford the price of candles. When I looked out of my window just +after the clock had gone ten, there was not a light in the village save +only at the inn. It was but a few feet from the ground, so I slipped +out, and there was Jim waiting for me at the smithy corner. We +crossed John’s Common together, and so past Ridden’s Farm, +meeting only one or two riding officers upon the way. There was +a brisk wind blowing, and the moon kept peeping through the rifts of +the scud, so that our road was sometimes silver-clear, and sometimes +so black that we found ourselves among the brambles and gorse-bushes +which lined it. We came at last to the wooden gate with the high +stone pillars by the roadside, and, looking through between the rails, +we saw the long avenue of oaks, and at the end of this ill-boding tunnel, +the pale face of the house glimmered in the moonshine.<br> +<br> +That would have been enough for me, that one glimpse of it, and the +sound of the night wind sighing and groaning among the branches. +But Jim swung the gate open, and up we went, the gravel squeaking beneath +our tread. It towered high, the old house, with many little windows +in which the moon glinted, and with a strip of water running round three +sides of it. The arched door stood right in the face of us, and +on one side a lattice hung open upon its hinges.<br> +<br> +“We’re in luck, Roddy,” whispered Jim. “Here’s +one of the windows open.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough, Jim?” +said I, with my teeth chattering.<br> +<br> +“I’ll lift you in first.”<br> +<br> +“No, no, I’ll not go first.”<br> +<br> +“Then I will.” He gripped the sill, and had his knee +on it in an instant. “Now, Roddy, give me your hands.” +With a pull he had me up beside him, and a moment later we were both +in the haunted house.<br> +<br> +How hollow it sounded when we jumped down on to the wooden floor! +There was such a sudden boom and reverberation that we both stood silent +for a moment. Then Jim burst out laughing.<br> +<br> +“What an old drum of a place it is!” he cried; “we’ll +strike a light, Roddy, and see where we are.”<br> +<br> +He had brought a candle and a tinder-box in his pocket. When the +flame burned up, we saw an arched stone roof above our heads, and broad +deal shelves all round us covered with dusty dishes. It was the +pantry.<br> +<br> +“I’ll show you round,” said Jim, merrily; and, pushing +the door open, he led the way into the hall. I remember the high, +oak-panelled walls, with the heads of deer jutting out, and a single +white bust, which sent my heart into my mouth, in the corner. +Many rooms opened out of this, and we wandered from one to the other +- the kitchens, the still-room, the morning-room, the dining-room, all +filled with the same choking smell of dust and of mildew.<br> +<br> +“This is where they played the cards, Jim,” said I, in a +hushed voice. “It was on that very table.”<br> +<br> +“Why, here are the cards themselves!” cried he; and he pulled +a brown towel from something in the centre of the sideboard. Sure +enough it was a pile of playing-cards - forty packs, I should think, +at the least - which had lain there ever since that tragic game which +was played before I was born.<br> +<br> +“I wonder whence that stair leads?” said Jim.<br> +<br> +“Don’t go up there, Jim!” I cried, clutching at his +arm. “That must lead to the room of the murder.”<br> +<br> +“How do you know that?”<br> +<br> +“The vicar said that they saw on the ceiling - Oh, Jim, you can +see it even now!”<br> +<br> +He held up his candle, and there was a great, dark smudge upon the white +plaster above us.<br> +<br> +“I believe you’re right,” said he; “but anyhow +I’m going to have a look at it.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t, Jim, don’t!” I cried.<br> +<br> +“Tut, Roddy! you can stay here if you are afraid. I won’t +be more than a minute. There’s no use going on a ghost hunt +unless - Great Lord, there’s something coming down the stairs!”<br> +<br> +I heard it too - a shuffling footstep in the room above, and then a +creak from the steps, and then another creak, and another. I saw +Jim’s face as if it had been carved out of ivory, with his parted +lips and his staring eyes fixed upon the black square of the stair opening. +He still held the light, but his fingers twitched, and with every twitch +the shadows sprang from the walls to the ceiling. As to myself, +my knees gave way under me, and I found myself on the floor crouching +down behind Jim, with a scream frozen in my throat. And still +the step came slowly from stair to stair.<br> +<br> +Then, hardly daring to look and yet unable to turn away my eyes, I saw +a figure dimly outlined in the corner upon which the stair opened. +There was a silence in which I could hear my poor heart thumping, and +then when I looked again the figure was gone, and the low creak, creak +was heard once more upon the stairs. Jim sprang after it, and +I was left half-fainting in the moonlight.<br> +<br> +But it was not for long. He was down again in a minute, and, passing +his hand under my arm, he half led and half carried me out of the house. +It was not until we were in the fresh night air again that he opened +his mouth.<br> +<br> +“Can you stand, Roddy?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, but I’m shaking.”<br> +<br> +“So am I,” said he, passing his hand over his forehead. +“I ask your pardon, Roddy. I was a fool to bring you on +such an errand. But I never believed in such things. I know +better now.”<br> +<br> +“Could it have been a man, Jim?” I asked, plucking up my +courage now that I could hear the dogs barking on the farms.<br> +<br> +“It was a spirit, Rodney.”<br> +<br> +“How do you know?”<br> +<br> +“Because I followed it and saw it vanish into a wall, as easily +as an eel into sand. Why, Roddy, what’s amiss now?”<br> +<br> +My fears were all back upon me, and every nerve creeping with horror.<br> +<br> +“Take me away, Jim! Take me away!” I cried.<br> +<br> +I was glaring down the avenue, and his eyes followed mine. Amid +the gloom of the oak trees something was coming towards us.<br> +<br> +“Quiet, Roddy!” whispered Jim. “By heavens, +come what may, my arms are going round it this time.”<br> +<br> +We crouched as motionless as the trunks behind us. Heavy steps +ploughed their way through the soft gravel, and a broad figure loomed +upon us in the darkness.<br> +<br> +Jim sprang upon it like a tiger.<br> +<br> +“<i>You’re </i>not a spirit, anyway!” he cried.<br> +<br> +The man gave a shout of surprise, and then a growl of rage.<br> +<br> +“What the deuce!” he roared, and then, “I’ll +break your neck if you don’t let go.”<br> +<br> +The threat might not have loosened Jim’s grip, but the voice did.<br> +<br> +“Why, uncle!” he cried.<br> +<br> +“Well, I’m blessed if it isn’t Boy Jim! And +what’s this? Why, it’s young Master Rodney Stone, +as I’m a living sinner! What in the world are you two doing +up at Cliffe Royal at this time of night?”<br> +<br> +We had all moved out into the moonlight, and there was Champion Harrison +with a big bundle on his arm, - and such a look of amazement upon his +face as would have brought a smile back on to mine had my heart not +still been cramped with fear.<br> +<br> +“We’re exploring,” said Jim.<br> +<br> +“Exploring, are you? Well, I don’t think you were +meant to be Captain Cooks, either of you, for I never saw such a pair +of peeled-turnip faces. Why, Jim, what are you afraid of?”<br> +<br> +“I’m not afraid, uncle. I never was afraid; but spirits +are new to me, and - ”<br> +<br> +“Spirits?”<br> +<br> +“I’ve been in Cliffe Royal, and we’ve seen the ghost.”<br> +<br> +The Champion gave a whistle.<br> +<br> +“That’s the game, is it?” said he. “Did +you have speech with it?”<br> +<br> +“It vanished first.”<br> +<br> +The Champion whistled once more.<br> +<br> +“I’ve heard there is something of the sort up yonder,” +said he; “but it’s not a thing as I would advise you to +meddle with. There’s enough trouble with the folk of this +world, Boy Jim, without going out of your way to mix up with those of +another. As to young Master Rodney Stone, if his good mother saw +that white face of his, she’d never let him come to the smithy +more. Walk slowly on, and I’ll see you back to Friar’s +Oak.”<br> +<br> +We had gone half a mile, perhaps, when the Champion overtook us, and +I could not but observe that the bundle was no longer under his arm. +We were nearly at the smithy before Jim asked the question which was +already in my mind.<br> +<br> +“What took <i>you</i> up to Cliffe Royal, uncle?”<br> +<br> +“Well, as a man gets on in years,” said the Champion, “there’s +many a duty turns up that the likes of you have no idea of. When +you’re near forty yourself, you’ll maybe know the truth +of what I say.”<br> +<br> +So that was all we could draw from him; but, young as I was, I had heard +of coast smuggling and of packages carried to lonely places at night, +so that from that time on, if I had heard that the preventives had made +a capture, I was never easy until I saw the jolly face of Champion Harrison +looking out of his smithy door.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III - THE PLAY-ACTRESS OF ANSTEY CROSS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +I have told you something about Friar’s Oak, and about the life +that we led there. Now that my memory goes back to the old place +it would gladly linger, for every thread which I draw from the skein +of the past brings out half a dozen others that were entangled with +it. I was in two minds when I began whether I had enough in me +to make a book of, and now I know that I could write one about Friar’s +Oak alone, and the folk whom I knew in my childhood. They were +hard and uncouth, some of them, I doubt not; and yet, seen through the +golden haze of time, they all seem sweet and lovable. There was +our good vicar, Mr. Jefferson, who loved the whole world save only Mr. +Slack, the Baptist minister of Clayton; and there was kindly Mr. Slack, +who was all men’s brother save only of Mr. Jefferson, the vicar +of Friar’s Oak. Then there was Monsieur Rudin, the French +Royalist refugee who lived over on the Pangdean road, and who, when +the news of a victory came in, was convulsed with joy because we had +beaten Buonaparte, and shaken with rage because we had beaten the French, +so that after the Nile he wept for a whole day out of delight and then +for another one out of fury, alternately clapping his hands and stamping +his feet. Well I remember his thin, upright figure and the way +in which he jauntily twirled his little cane; for cold and hunger could +not cast him down, though we knew that he had his share of both. +Yet he was so proud and had such a grand manner of talking, that no +one dared to offer him a cloak or a meal. I can see his face now, +with a flush over each craggy cheek-bone when the butcher made him the +present of some ribs of beef. He could not but take it, and yet +whilst he was stalking off he threw a proud glance over his shoulder +at the butcher, and he said, “Monsieur, I have a dog!” +Yet it was Monsieur Rudin and not his dog who looked plumper for a week +to come.<br> +<br> +Then I remember Mr. Paterson, the farmer, who was what you would now +call a Radical, though at that time some called him a Priestley-ite, +and some a Fox-ite, and nearly everybody a traitor. It certainly +seemed to me at the time to be very wicked that a man should look glum +when he heard of a British victory; and when they burned his straw image +at the gate of his farm, Boy Jim and I were among those who lent a hand. +But we were bound to confess that he was game, though he might be a +traitor, for down he came, striding into the midst of us with his brown +coat and his buckled shoes, and the fire beating upon his grim, schoolmaster +face. My word, how he rated us, and how glad we were at last to +sneak quietly away.<br> +<br> +“You livers of a lie!” said he. “You and those +like you have been preaching peace for nigh two thousand years, and +cutting throats the whole time. If the money that is lost in taking +French lives were spent in saving English ones, you would have more +right to burn candles in your windows. Who are you that dare to +come here to insult a law-abiding man?”<br> +<br> +“We are the people of England!” cried young Master Ovington, +the son of the Tory Squire.<br> +<br> +“You! you horse-racing, cock-fighting ne’er-do-weel! +Do you presume to talk for the people of England? They are a deep, +strong, silent stream, and you are the scum, the bubbles, the poor, +silly froth that floats upon the surface.”<br> +<br> +We thought him very wicked then, but, looking back, I am not sure that +we were not very wicked ourselves.<br> +<br> +And then there were the smugglers! The Downs swarmed with them, +for since there might be no lawful trade betwixt France and England, +it had all to run in that channel. I have been up on St. John’s +Common upon a dark night, and, lying among the bracken, I have seen +as many as seventy mules and a man at the head of each go flitting past +me as silently as trout in a stream. Not one of them but bore +its two ankers of the right French cognac, or its bale of silk of Lyons +and lace of Valenciennes. I knew Dan Scales, the head of them, +and I knew Tom Hislop, the riding officer, and I remember the night +they met.<br> +<br> +“Do you fight, Dan?” asked Tom.<br> +<br> +“Yes, Tom; thou must fight for it.”<br> +<br> +On which Tom drew his pistol, and blew Dan’s brains out.<br> +<br> +“It was a sad thing to do,” he said afterwards, “but +I knew Dan was too good a man for me, for we tried it out before.”<br> +<br> +It was Tom who paid a poet from Brighton to write the lines for the +tombstone, which we all thought were very true and good, beginning -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Alas! Swift<i> </i>flew the fatal lead<br> +Which piercéd through the young man’s head.<br> +He instantly fell, resigned his breath,<br> +And closed his languid eyes in death.”<br> +<br> +<br> +There was more of it, and I dare say it is all still to be read in Patcham +Churchyard.<br> +<br> +One day, about the time of our Cliffe Royal adventure, I was seated +in the cottage looking round at the curios which my father had fastened +on to the walls, and wishing, like the lazy lad that I was, that Mr. +Lilly had died before ever he wrote his Latin grammar, when my mother, +who was sitting knitting in the window, gave a little cry of surprise.<br> +<br> +“Good gracious!” she cried. “What a vulgar-looking +woman!”<br> +<br> +It was so rare to hear my mother say a hard word against anybody (unless +it were General Buonaparte) that I was across the room and at the window +in a jump. A pony-chaise was coming slowly down the village street, +and in it was the queerest-looking person that I had ever seen. +She was very stout, with a face that was of so dark a red that it shaded +away into purple over the nose and cheeks. She wore a great hat +with a white curling ostrich feather, and from under its brim her two +bold, black eyes stared out with a look of anger and defiance as if +to tell the folk that she thought less of them than they could do of +her. She had some sort of scarlet pelisse with white swans-down +about her neck, and she held the reins slack in her hands, while the +pony wandered from side to side of the road as the fancy took him. +Each time the chaise swayed, her head with the great hat swayed also, +so that sometimes we saw the crown of it and sometimes the brim.<br> +<br> +“What a dreadful sight!” cried my mother.<br> +<br> +“What is amiss with her, mother?”<br> +<br> +“Heaven forgive me if I misjudge her, Rodney, but I think that +the unfortunate woman has been drinking.”<br> +<br> +“Why,” I cried, “she has pulled the chaise up at the +smithy. I’ll find out all the news for you;” and, +catching up my cap, away I scampered.<br> +<br> +Champion Harrison had been shoeing a horse at the forge door, and when +I got into the street I could see him with the creature’s hoof +still under his arm, and the rasp in his hand, kneeling down amid the +white parings. The woman was beckoning him from the chaise, and +he staring up at her with the queerest expression upon his face. +Presently he threw down his rasp and went across to her, standing by +the wheel and shaking his head as he talked to her. For my part, +I slipped into the smithy, where Boy Jim was finishing the shoe, and +I watched the neatness of his work and the deft way in which he turned +up the caulkens. When he had done with it he carried it out, and +there was the strange woman still talking with his uncle.<br> +<br> +“Is that he?” I heard her ask.<br> +<br> +Champion Harrison nodded.<br> +<br> +She looked at Jim, and I never saw such eyes in a human head, so large, +and black, and wonderful. Boy as I was, I knew that, in spite +of that bloated face, this woman had once been very beautiful. +She put out a hand, with all the fingers going as if she were playing +on the harpsichord, and she touched Jim on the shoulder.<br> +<br> +“I hope - I hope you’re well,” she stammered.<br> +<br> +“Very well, ma’am,” said Jim, staring from her to +his uncle.<br> +<br> +“And happy too?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, ma’am, I thank you.”<br> +<br> +“Nothing that you crave for?”<br> +<br> +“Why, no, ma’am, I have all that I lack.”<br> +<br> +“That will do, Jim,” said his uncle, in a stern voice. +“Blow up the forge again, for that shoe wants reheating.”<br> +<br> +But it seemed as if the woman had something else that she would say, +for she was angry that he should be sent away. Her eyes gleamed, +and her head tossed, while the smith with his two big hands outspread +seemed to be soothing her as best he could. For a long time they +whispered until at last she appeared to be satisfied.<br> +<br> +“To-morrow, then?” she cried loud out.<br> +<br> +“To-morrow,” he answered.<br> +<br> +“You keep your word and I’ll keep mine,” said she, +and dropped the lash on the pony’s back. The smith stood +with the rasp in his hand, looking after her until she was just a little +red spot on the white road. Then he turned, and I never saw his +face so grave.<br> +<br> +“Jim,” said he, “that’s Miss Hinton, who has +come to live at The Maples, out Anstey Cross way. She’s +taken a kind of a fancy to you, Jim, and maybe she can help you on a +bit. I promised her that you would go over and see her to-morrow.”<br> +<br> +“I don’t want her help, uncle, and I don’t want to +see her.”<br> +<br> +“But I’ve promised, Jim, and you wouldn’t make me +out a liar. She does but want to talk with you, for it is a lonely +life she leads.”<br> +<br> +“What would she want to talk with such as me about?”<br> +<br> +“Why, I cannot say that, but she seemed very set upon it, and +women have their fancies. There’s young Master Stone here +who wouldn’t refuse to go and see a good lady, I’ll warrant, +if he thought he might better his fortune by doing so.”<br> +<br> +“Well, uncle, I’ll go if Roddy Stone will go with me,” +said Jim.<br> +<br> +“Of course he’ll go. Won’t you, Master Rodney?”<br> +<br> +So it ended in my saying “yes,” and back I went with all +my news to my mother, who dearly loved a little bit of gossip. +She shook her head when she heard where I was going, but she did not +say nay, and so it was settled.<br> +<br> +It was a good four miles of a walk, but when we reached it you would +not wish to see a more cosy little house: all honeysuckle and creepers, +with a wooden porch and lattice windows. A common-looking woman +opened the door for us.<br> +<br> +“Miss Hinton cannot see you,” said she.<br> +<br> +“But she asked us to come,” said Jim.<br> +<br> +“I can’t help that,” cried the woman, in a rude voice. +“I tell you that she can’t see you.”<br> +<br> +We stood irresolute for a minute.<br> +<br> +“Maybe you would just tell her I am here,” said Jim, at +last.<br> +<br> +“Tell her! How am I to tell her when she couldn’t +so much as hear a pistol in her ears? Try and tell her yourself, +if you have a mind to.”<br> +<br> +She threw open a door as she spoke, and there, in a reclining chair +at the further end of the room, we caught a glimpse of a figure all +lumped together, huge and shapeless, with tails of black hair hanging +down.<br> +<br> +The sound of dreadful, swine-like breathing fell upon our ears. +It was but a glance, and then we were off hot-foot for home. As +for me, I was so young that I was not sure whether this was funny or +terrible; but when I looked at Jim to see how he took it, he was looking +quite white and ill.<br> +<br> +“You’ll not tell any one, Roddy,” said he.<br> +<br> +“Not unless it’s my mother.”<br> +<br> +“I won’t even tell my uncle. I’ll say she was +ill, the poor lady! it’s enough that we should have seen her in +her shame, without its being the gossip of the village. It makes +me feel sick and heavy at heart.”<br> +<br> +“She was so yesterday, Jim.”<br> +<br> +“Was she? I never marked it. But I know that she has +kind eyes and a kind heart, for I saw the one in the other when she +looked at me. Maybe it’s the want of a friend that has driven +her to this.”<br> +<br> +It blighted his spirits for days, and when it had all gone from my mind +it was brought back to me by his manner. But it was not to be +our last memory of the lady with the scarlet pelisse, for before the +week was out Jim came round to ask me if I would again go up with him.<br> +<br> +“My uncle has had a letter,” said he. “She would +speak with me, and I would be easier if you came with me, Rod.”<br> +<br> +For me it was only a pleasure outing, but I could see, as we drew near +the house, that Jim was troubling in his mind lest we should find that +things were amiss.<br> +<br> +His fears were soon set at rest, however, for we had scarce clicked +the garden gate before the woman was out of the door of the cottage +and running down the path to meet us. She was so strange a figure, +with some sort of purple wrapper on, and her big, flushed face smiling +out of it, that I might, if I had been alone, have taken to my heels +at the sight of her. Even Jim stopped for a moment as if he were +not very sure of himself, but her hearty ways soon set us at our ease.<br> +<br> +“It is indeed good of you to come and see an old, lonely woman,” +said she, “and I owe you an apology that I should give you a fruitless +journey on Tuesday, but in a sense you were yourselves the cause of +it, since the thought of your coming had excited me, and any excitement +throws me into a nervous fever. My poor nerves! You can +see for yourselves how they serve me.”<br> +<br> +She held out her twitching hands as she spoke. Then she passed +one of them through Jim’s arm, and walked with him up the path.<br> +<br> +“You must let me know you, and know you well,” said she. +“Your uncle and aunt are quite old acquaintances of mine, and +though you cannot remember me, I have held you in my arms when you were +an infant. Tell me, little man,” she added, turning to me, +“what do you call your friend?”<br> +<br> +“Boy Jim, ma’am,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Then if you will not think me forward, I will call you Boy Jim +also. We elderly people have our privileges, you know. And +now you shall come in with me, and we will take a dish of tea together.”<br> +<br> +She led the way into a cosy room - the same which we had caught a glimpse +of when last we came - and there, in the middle, was a table with white +napery, and shining glass, and gleaming china, and red-cheeked apples +piled upon a centre-dish, and a great plateful of smoking muffins which +the cross-faced maid had just carried in. You can think that we +did justice to all the good things, and Miss Hinton would ever keep +pressing us to pass our cup and to fill our plate. Twice during +our meal she rose from her chair and withdrew into a cupboard at the +end of the room, and each time I saw Jim’s face cloud, for we +heard a gentle clink of glass against glass.<br> +<br> +“Come now, little man,” said she to me, when the table had +been cleared. “Why are you looking round so much?”<br> +<br> +“Because there are so many pretty things upon the walls.”<br> +<br> +“And which do you think the prettiest of them?”<br> +<br> +“Why, that!” said I, pointing to a picture which hung opposite +to me. It was of a tall and slender girl, with the rosiest cheeks +and the tenderest eyes - so daintily dressed, too, that I had never +seen anything more perfect. She had a posy of flowers in her hand +and another one was lying upon the planks of wood upon which she was +standing.<br> +<br> +“Oh, that’s the prettiest, is it?” said she, laughing. +“Well, now, walk up to it, and let us hear what is writ beneath +it.”<br> +<br> +I did as she asked, and read out: “Miss Polly Hinton, as ‘Peggy,’ +in <i>The Country Wife, </i>played for her benefit at the Haymarket +Theatre, September 14th, 1782.”<br> +<br> +“It’s a play-actress,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Oh, you rude little boy, to say it in such a tone,” said +she; “as if a play-actress wasn’t as good as any one else. +Why, ‘twas but the other day that the Duke of Clarence, who may +come to call himself King of England, married Mrs. Jordan, who is herself +only a play-actress. And whom think you that this one is?”<br> +<br> +She stood under the picture with her arms folded across her great body, +and her big black eyes looking from one to the other of us.<br> +<br> +“Why, where are your eyes?” she cried at last. “<i>I +</i>was Miss Polly Hinton of the Haymarket Theatre. And perhaps +you never heard the name before?”<br> +<br> +We were compelled to confess that we never had. And the very name +of play-actress had filled us both with a kind of vague horror, like +the country-bred folk that we were. To us they were a class apart, +to be hinted at rather than named, with the wrath of the Almighty hanging +over them like a thundercloud. Indeed, His judgments seemed to +be in visible operation before us when we looked upon what this woman +was, and what she had been.<br> +<br> +“Well,” said she, laughing like one who is hurt, “you +have no cause to say anything, for I read on your face what you have +been taught to think of me. So this is the upbringing that you +have had, Jim - to think evil of that which you do not understand! +I wish you had been in the theatre that very night with Prince Florizel +and four Dukes in the boxes, and all the wits and macaronis of London +rising at me in the pit. If Lord Avon had not given me a cast +in his carriage, I had never got my flowers back to my lodgings in York +Street, Westminster. And now two little country lads are sitting +in judgment upon me!”<br> +<br> +Jim’s pride brought a flush on to his cheeks, for he did not like +to be called a country lad, or to have it supposed that he was so far +behind the grand folk in London.<br> +<br> +“I have never been inside a play-house,” said he; “I +know nothing of them.”<br> +<br> +“Nor I either.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said she, “I am not in voice, and it is ill +to play in a little room with but two to listen, but you must conceive +me to be the Queen of the Peruvians, who is exhorting her countrymen +to rise up against the Spaniards, who are oppressing them.”<br> +<br> +And straightway that coarse, swollen woman became a queen - the grandest, +haughtiest queen that you could dream of - and she turned upon us with +such words of fire, such lightning eyes and sweeping of her white hand, +that she held us spellbound in our chairs. Her voice was soft +and sweet, and persuasive at the first, but louder it rang and louder +as it spoke of wrongs and freedom and the joys of death in a good cause, +until it thrilled into my every nerve, and I asked nothing more than +to run out of the cottage and to die then and there in the cause of +my country. And then in an instant she changed. She was +a poor woman now, who had lost her only child, and who was bewailing +it. Her voice was full of tears, and what she said was so simple, +so true, that we both seemed to see the dead babe stretched there on +the carpet before us, and we could have joined in with words of pity +and of grief. And then, before our cheeks were dry, she was back +into her old self again.<br> +<br> +“How like you that, then?” she cried. “That +was my way in the days when Sally Siddons would turn green at the name +of Polly Hinton. It’s a fine play, is <i>Pizarro</i>.”<br> +<br> +“And who wrote it, ma’am?”<br> +<br> +“Who wrote it? I never heard. What matter who did +the writing of it! But there are some great lines for one who +knows how they should be spoken.”<br> +<br> +“And you play no longer, ma’am?”<br> +<br> +“No, Jim, I left the boards when - when I was weary of them. +But my heart goes back to them sometimes. It seems to me there +is no smell like that of the hot oil in the footlights and of the oranges +in the pit. But you are sad, Jim.”<br> +<br> +“It was but the thought of that poor woman and her child.”<br> +<br> +“Tut, never think about her! I will soon wipe her from your +mind. This is ‘Miss Priscilla Tomboy,’ from <i>The +Romp</i>. You must conceive that the mother is speaking, and that +the forward young minx is answering.<br> +<br> +And she began a scene between the two of them, so exact in voice and +manner that it seemed to us as if there were really two folk before +us: the stern old mother with her hand up like an ear-trumpet, and her +flouncing, bouncing daughter. Her great figure danced about with +a wonderful lightness, and she tossed her head and pouted her lips as +she answered back to the old, bent figure that addressed her. +Jim and I had forgotten our tears, and were holding our ribs before +she came to the end of it.<br> +<br> +“That is better,” said she, smiling at our laughter. +“I would not have you go back to Friar’s Oak with long faces, +or maybe they would not let you come to me again.”<br> +<br> +She vanished into her cupboard, and came out with a bottle and glass, +which she placed upon the table.<br> +<br> +“You are too young for strong waters,” she said, “but +this talking gives one a dryness, and - ”<br> +<br> +Then it was that Boy Jim did a wonderful thing. He rose from his +chair, and he laid his hand upon the bottle.<br> +<br> +“Don’t!” said he.<br> +<br> +She looked him in the face, and I can still see those black eyes of +hers softening before the gaze.<br> +<br> +“Am I to have none?”<br> +<br> +“Please, don’t.”<br> +<br> +With a quick movement she wrested the bottle out of his hand and raised +it up so that for a moment it entered my head that she was about to +drink it off. Then she flung it through the open lattice, and +we heard the crash of it on the path outside.<br> +<br> +“There, Jim!” said she; “does that satisfy you? +It’s long since any one cared whether I drank or no.”<br> +<br> +“You are too good and kind for that,” said he.<br> +<br> +“Good!” she cried. “Well, I love that you should +think me so. And it would make you happier if I kept from the +brandy, Jim? Well, then, I’ll make you a promise, if you’ll +make me one in return.”<br> +<br> +“What’s that, miss?”<br> +<br> +“No drop shall pass my lips, Jim, if you will swear, wet or shine, +blow or snow, to come up here twice in every week, that I may see you +and speak with you, for, indeed, there are times when I am very lonesome.”<br> +<br> +So the promise was made, and very faithfully did Jim keep it, for many +a time when I have wanted him to go fishing or rabbit-snaring, he has +remembered that it was his day for Miss Hinton, and has tramped off +to Anstey Cross. At first I think that she found her share of +the bargain hard to keep, and I have seen Jim come back with a black +face on him, as if things were going amiss. But after a time the +fight was won - as all fights are won if one does but fight long enough +- and in the year before my father came back Miss Hinton had become +another woman. And it was not her ways only, but herself as well, +for from being the person that I have described, she became in one twelve-month +as fine a looking lady as there was in the whole country-side. +Jim was prouder of it by far than of anything he had had a hand in in +his life, but it was only to me that he ever spoke about it, for he +had that tenderness towards her that one has for those whom one has +helped. And she helped him also, for by her talk of the world +and of what she had seen, she took his mind away from the Sussex country-side +and prepared it for a broader life beyond. So matters stood between +them at the time when peace was made and my father came home from the +sea.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IV - THE PEACE OF AMIENS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Many a woman’s knee was on the ground, and many a woman’s +soul spent itself in joy and thankfulness when the news came with the +fall of the leaf in 1801 that the preliminaries of peace had been settled. +All England waved her gladness by day and twinkled it by night. +Even in little Friar’s Oak we had our flags flying bravely, and +a candle in every window, with a big G.R. guttering in the wind over +the door of the inn. Folk were weary of the war, for we had been +at it for eight years, taking Holland, and Spain, and France each in +turn and all together. All that we had learned during that time +was that our little army was no match for the French on land, and that +our large navy was more than a match for them upon the water. +We had gained some credit, which we were sorely in need of after the +American business; and a few Colonies, which were welcome also for the +same reason; but our debt had gone on rising and our consols sinking, +until even Pitt stood aghast. Still, if we had known that there +never could be peace between Napoleon and ourselves, and that this was +only the end of a round and not of the battle, we should have been better +advised had we fought it out without a break. As it was, the French +got back the twenty thousand good seamen whom we had captured, and a +fine dance they led us with their Boulogne flotillas and fleets of invasion +before we were able to catch them again.<br> +<br> +My father, as I remember him best, was a tough, strong little man, of +no great breadth, but solid and well put together. His face was +burned of a reddish colour, as bright as a flower-pot, and in spite +of his age (for he was only forty at the time of which I speak) it was +shot with lines, which deepened if he were in any way perturbed, so +that I have seen him turn on the instant from a youngish man to an elderly. +His eyes especially were meshed round with wrinkles, as is natural for +one who had puckered them all his life in facing foul wind and bitter +weather. These eyes were, perhaps, his strangest feature, for +they were of a very clear and beautiful blue, which shone the brighter +out of that ruddy setting. By nature he must have been a fair-skinned +man, for his upper brow, where his cap came over it, was as white as +mine, and his close-cropped hair was tawny.<br> +<br> +He had served, as he was proud to say, in the last of our ships which +had been chased out of the Mediterranean in ‘97, and in the first +which had re-entered it in ‘98. He was under Miller, as +third lieutenant of the <i>Theseus, </i>when our fleet, like a pack +of eager fox hounds in a covert, was dashing from Sicily to Syria and +back again to Naples, trying to pick up the lost scent. With the +same good fighting man he served at the Nile, where the men of his command +sponged and rammed and trained until, when the last tricolour had come +down, they hove up the sheet anchor and fell dead asleep upon the top +of each other under the capstan bars. Then, as a second lieutenant, +he was in one of those grim three-deckers with powder-blackened hulls +and crimson scupper-holes, their spare cables tied round their keels +and over their bulwarks to hold them together, which carried the news +into the Bay of Naples. From thence, as a reward for his services, +he was transferred as first lieutenant to the <i>Aurora </i>frigate, +engaged in cutting off supplies from Genoa, and in her he still remained +until long after peace was declared.<br> +<br> +How well I can remember his home-coming! Though it is now eight-and-forty +years ago, it is clearer to me than the doings of last week, for the +memory of an old man is like one of those glasses which shows out what +is at a distance and blurs all that is near.<br> +<br> +My mother had been in a tremble ever since the first rumour of the preliminaries +came to our ears, for she knew that he might come as soon as his message. +She said little, but she saddened my life by insisting that I should +be for ever clean and tidy. With every rumble of wheels, too, +her eyes would glance towards the door, and her hands steal up to smooth +her pretty black hair. She had embroidered a white “Welcome” +upon a blue ground, with an anchor in red upon each side, and a border +of laurel leaves; and this was to hang upon the two lilac bushes which +flanked the cottage door. He could not have left the Mediterranean +before we had this finished, and every morning she looked to see if +it were in its place and ready to be hanged.<br> +<br> +But it was a weary time before the peace was ratified, and it was April +of next year before our great day came round to us. It had been +raining all morning, I remember - a soft spring rain, which sent up +a rich smell from the brown earth and pattered pleasantly upon the budding +chestnuts behind our cottage. The sun had shone out in the evening, +and I had come down with my fishing-rod (for I had promised Boy Jim +to go with him to the mill-stream), when what should I see but a post-chaise +with two smoking horses at the gate, and there in the open door of it +were my mother’s black skirt and her little feet jutting out, +with two blue arms for a waist-belt, and all the rest of her buried +in the chaise. Away I ran for the motto, and I pinned it up on +the bushes as we had agreed, but when I had finished there were the +skirts and the feet and the blue arms just the same as before.<br> +<br> +“Here’s Rod,” said my mother at last, struggling down +on to the ground again. “Roddy, darling, here’s your +father!”<br> +<br> +I saw the red face and the kindly, light-blue eyes looking out at me.<br> +<br> +“Why, Roddy, lad, you were but a child and we kissed good-bye +when last we met; but I suppose we must put you on a different rating +now. I’m right glad from my heart to see you, dear lad; +and as to you, sweetheart - ”<br> +<br> +The blue arms flew out, and there were the skirt and the two feet fixed +in the door again.<br> +<br> +“Here are the folk coming, Anson,” said my mother, blushing. +“Won’t you get out and come in with us?”<br> +<br> +And then suddenly it came home to us both that for all his cheery face +he had never moved more than his arms, and that his leg was resting +on the opposite seat of the chaise.<br> +<br> +“Oh, Anson, Anson!” she cried.<br> +<br> +“Tut, ‘tis but the bone of my leg,” said he, taking +his knee between his hands and lifting it round. “I got +it broke in the Bay, but the surgeon has fished it and spliced it, though +it’s a bit crank yet. Why, bless her kindly heart, if I +haven’t turned her from pink to white. You can see for yourself +that it’s nothing.”<br> +<br> +He sprang out as he spoke, and with one leg and a staff he hopped swiftly +up the path, and under the laurel-bordered motto, and so over his own +threshold for the first time for five years. When the post-boy +and I had carried up the sea-chest and the two canvas bags, there he +was sitting in his armchair by the window in his old weather-stained +blue coat. My mother was weeping over his poor leg, and he patting +her hair with one brown hand. His other he threw round my waist, +and drew me to the side of his chair.<br> +<br> +“Now that we have peace, I can lie up and refit until King George +needs me again,” said he. “’Twas a carronade +that came adrift in the Bay when it was blowing a top-gallant breeze +with a beam sea. Ere we could make it fast it had me jammed against +the mast. Well, well,” he added, looking round at the walls +of the room, “here are all my old curios, the same as ever: the +narwhal’s horn from the Arctic, and the blowfish from the Moluccas, +and the paddles from Fiji, and the picture of the <i>Ca Ira </i>with +Lord Hotham in chase. And here you are, Mary, and you also, Roddy, +and good luck to the carronade which has sent me into so snug a harbour +without fear of sailing orders.”<br> +<br> +My mother had his long pipe and his tobacco all ready for him, so that +he was able now to light it and to sit looking from one of us to the +other and then back again, as if he could never see enough of us. +Young as I was, I could still understand that this was the moment which +he had thought of during many a lonely watch, and that the expectation +of it had cheered his heart in many a dark hour. Sometimes he +would touch one of us with his hand, and sometimes the other, and so +he sat, with his soul too satiated for words, whilst the shadows gathered +in the little room and the lights of the inn windows glimmered through +the gloom. And then, after my mother had lit our own lamp, she +slipped suddenly down upon her knees, and he got one knee to the ground +also, so that, hand-in-hand, they joined their thanks to Heaven for +manifold mercies. When I look back at my parents as they were +in those days, it is at that very moment that I can picture them most +clearly: her sweet face with the wet shining upon her cheeks, and his +blue eyes upturned to the smoke-blackened ceiling. I remember +that he swayed his reeking pipe in the earnestness of his prayer, so +that I was half tears and half smiles as I watched him.<br> +<br> +“Roddy, lad,” said he, after supper was over, “you’re +getting a man now, and I suppose you will go afloat like the rest of +us. You’re old enough to strap a dirk to your thigh.”<br> +<br> +“And leave me without a child as well as without a husband!” +cried my mother.<br> +<br> +“Well, there’s time enough yet,” said he, “for +they are more inclined to empty berths than to fill them, now that peace +has come. But I’ve never tried what all this schooling has +done for you, Rodney. You have had a great deal more than ever +I had, but I dare say I can make shift to test it. Have you learned +history?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, father,” said I, with some confidence.<br> +<br> +“Then how many sail of the line were at the Battle of Camperdown?”<br> +<br> +He shook his head gravely when he found that I could not answer him.<br> +<br> +“Why, there are men in the fleet who never had any schooling at +all who could tell you that we had seven 74’s, seven 64’s, +and two 50-gun ships in the action. There’s a picture on +the wall of the chase of the <i>Ca Ira</i>. Which were the ships +that laid her aboard?”<br> +<br> +Again I had to confess that he had beaten me.<br> +<br> +“Well, your dad can teach you something in history yet,” +he cried, looking in triumph at my mother. “Have you learned +geography?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, father,” said I, though with less confidence than +before.<br> +<br> +“Well, how far is it from Port Mahon to Algeciras?”<br> +<br> +I could only shake my head.<br> +<br> +“If Ushant lay three leagues upon your starboard quarter, what +would be your nearest English port?”<br> +<br> +Again I had to give it up.<br> +<br> +“Well, I don’t see that your geography is much better than +your history,” said he. “You’d never get your +certificate at this rate. Can you do addition? Well, then, +let us see if you can tot up my prize-money.”<br> +<br> +He shot a mischievous glance at my mother as he spoke, and she laid +down her knitting on her lap and looked very earnestly at him.<br> +<br> +“You never asked me about that, Mary,” said he.<br> +<br> +“The Mediterranean is not the station for it, Anson. I have +heard you say that it is the Atlantic for prize-money, and the Mediterranean +for honour.”<br> +<br> +“I had a share of both last cruise, which comes from changing +a line-of-battleship for a frigate. Now, Rodney, there are two +pounds in every hundred due to me when the prize-courts have done with +them. When we were watching Massena, off Genoa, we got a matter +of seventy schooners, brigs, and tartans, with wine, food, and powder. +Lord Keith will want his finger in the pie, but that’s for the +Courts to settle. Put them at four pounds apiece to me, and what +will the seventy bring?”<br> +<br> +“Two hundred and eighty pounds,” I answered.<br> +<br> +“Why, Anson, it is a fortune!” cried my mother, clapping +her hands.<br> +<br> +“Try you again, Roddy!” said he, shaking his pipe at me. +“There was the <i>Xebec </i>frigate out of Barcelona with twenty +thousand Spanish dollars aboard, which make four thousand of our pounds. +Her hull should be worth another thousand. What’s my share +of that?”<br> +<br> +“A hundred pounds.”<br> +<br> +“Why, the purser couldn’t work it out quicker,” he +cried in his delight. “Here’s for you again! +We passed the Straits and worked up to the Azores, where we fell in +with the <i>La Sabina </i>from the Mauritius with sugar and spices. +Twelve hundred pounds she’s worth to me, Mary, my darling, and +never again shall you soil your pretty fingers or pinch upon my beggarly +pay.<br> +<br> +My dear mother had borne her long struggle without a sign all these +years, but now that she was so suddenly eased of it she fell sobbing +upon his neck. It was a long time before my father had a thought +to spare upon my examination in arithmetic.<br> +<br> +“It’s all in your lap, Mary,” said he, dashing his +own hand across his eyes. “By George, lass, when this leg +of mine is sound we’ll bear down for a spell to Brighton, and +if there is a smarter frock than yours upon the Steyne, may I never +tread a poop again. But how is it that you are so quick at figures, +Rodney, when you know nothing of history or geography?”<br> +<br> +I tried to explain that addition was the same upon sea or land, but +that history and geography were not.<br> +<br> +“Well,” he concluded, “you need figures to take a +reckoning, and you need nothing else save what your mother wit will +teach you. There never was one of our breed who did not take to +salt water like a young gull. Lord Nelson has promised me a vacancy +for you, and he’ll be as good as his word.”<br> +<br> +So it was that my father came home to us, and a better or kinder no +lad could wish for. Though my parents had been married so long, +they had really seen very little of each other, and their affection +was as warm and as fresh as if they were two newly-wedded lovers. +I have learned since that sailors can be coarse and foul, but never +did I know it from my father; for, although he had seen as much rough +work as the wildest could wish for, he was always the same patient, +good-humoured man, with a smile and a jolly word for all the village. +He could suit himself to his company, too, for on the one hand he could +take his wine with the vicar, or with Sir James Ovington, the squire +of the parish; while on the other he would sit by the hour amongst my +humble friends down in the smithy, with Champion Harrison, Boy Jim, +and the rest of them, telling them such stories of Nelson and his men +that I have seen the Champion knot his great hands together, while Jim’s +eyes have smouldered like the forge embers as he listened.<br> +<br> +My father had been placed on half-pay, like so many others of the old +war officers, and so, for nearly two years, he was able to remain with +us. During all this time I can only once remember that there was +the slightest disagreement between him and my mother. It chanced +that I was the cause of it, and as great events sprang out of it, I +must tell you how it came about. It was indeed the first of a +series of events which affected not only my fortunes, but those of very +much more important people.<br> +<br> +The spring of 1803 was an early one, and the middle of April saw the +leaves thick upon the chestnut trees. One evening we were all +seated together over a dish of tea when we heard the scrunch of steps +outside our door, and there was the postman with a letter in his hand.<br> +<br> +“I think it is for me,” said my mother, and sure enough +it was addressed in the most beautiful writing to Mrs. Mary Stone, of +Friar’s Oak, and there was a red seal the size of a half-crown +upon the outside of it with a flying dragon in the middle.<br> +<br> +“Whom think you that it is from, Anson?” she asked.<br> +<br> +“I had hoped that it was from Lord Nelson,” answered my +father. “It is time the boy had his commission. But +if it be for you, then it cannot be from any one of much importance.”<br> +<br> +“Can it not!” she cried, pretending to be offended. +“You will ask my pardon for that speech, sir, for it is from no +less a person than Sir Charles Tregellis, my own brother.”<br> +<br> +My mother seemed to speak with a hushed voice when she mentioned this +wonderful brother of hers, and always had done as long as I can remember, +so that I had learned also to have a subdued and reverent feeling when +I heard his name. And indeed it was no wonder, for that name was +never mentioned unless it were in connection with something brilliant +and extraordinary. Once we heard that he was at Windsor with the +King. Often he was at Brighton with the Prince. Sometimes +it was as a sportsman that his reputation reached us, as when his Meteor +beat the Duke of Queensberry’s Egham, at Newmarket, or when he +brought Jim Belcher up from Bristol, and sprang him upon the London +fancy. But usually it was as the friend of the great, the arbiter +of fashions, the king of bucks, and the best-dressed man in town that +his reputation reached us. My father, however, did not appear +to be elated at my mother’s triumphant rejoinder.<br> +<br> +“Ay, and what does he want?” asked he, in no very amiable +voice.<br> +<br> +“I wrote to him, Anson, and told him that Rodney was growing a +man now, thinking, since he had no wife or child of his own, he might +be disposed to advance him.”<br> +<br> +“We can do very well without him,” growled my father. +“He sheered off from us when the weather was foul, and we have +no need of him now that the sun is shining.”<br> +<br> +“Nay, you misjudge him, Anson,” said my mother, warmly. +“There is no one with a better heart than Charles; but his own +life moves so smoothly that he cannot understand that others may have +trouble. During all these years I have known that I had but to +say the word to receive as much as I wished from him.”<br> +<br> +“Thank God that you never had to stoop to it, Mary. I want +none of his help.”<br> +<br> +“But we must think of Rodney.”<br> +<br> +“Rodney has enough for his sea-chest and kit. He needs no +more.”<br> +<br> +“But Charles has great power and influence in London. He +could make Rodney known to all the great people. Surely you would +not stand in the way of his advancement.”<br> +<br> +“Let us hear what he says, then,” said my father; and this +was the letter which she read to him -<br> +<br> +<br> +14, Jermyn Street, St. James’s,<br> +“April 15th, 1803.<br> +<br> +“MY DEAR SISTER MARY,<br> +<br> +“In answer to your letter, I can assure you that you must not +conceive me to be wanting in those finer feelings which are the chief +adornment of humanity. It is true that for some years, absorbed +as I have been in affairs of the highest importance, I have seldom taken +a pen in hand, for which I can assure you that I have been reproached +by many <i>des plus charmantes </i>of your charming sex. At the +present moment I lie abed (having stayed late in order to pay a compliment +to the Marchioness of Dover at her ball last night), and this is writ +to my dictation by Ambrose, my clever rascal of a valet. I am +interested to hear of my nephew Rodney (<i>Mon dieu, quel nom</i>!), +and as I shall be on my way to visit the Prince at Brighton next week, +I shall break my journey at Friar’s Oak for the sake of seeing +both you and him. Make my compliments to your husband.<br> +<br> +“I am ever, my dear sister Mary,<br> +“Your brother,<br> +“CHARLES TREGELLIS.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“What do you think of that?” cried my mother in triumph +when she had finished.<br> +<br> +“I think it is the letter of a fop,” said my father, bluntly.<br> +<br> +“You are too hard on him, Anson. You will think better of +him when you know him. But he says that he will be here next week, +and this is Thursday, and the best curtains unhung, and no lavender +in the sheets!”<br> +<br> +Away she bustled, half distracted, while my father sat moody, with his +chin upon his hands, and I remained lost in wonder at the thought of +this grand new relative from London, and of all that his coming might +mean to us.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER V - BUCK TREGELLIS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Now that I was in my seventeenth year, and had already some need for +a razor, I had begun to weary of the narrow life of the village, and +to long to see something of the great world beyond. The craving +was all the stronger because I durst not speak openly about it, for +the least hint of it brought the tears into my mother’s eyes. +But now there was the less reason that I should stay at home, since +my father was at her side, and so my mind was all filled by this prospect +of my uncle’s visit, and of the chance that he might set my feet +moving at last upon the road of life.<br> +<br> +As you may think, it was towards my father’s profession that my +thoughts and my hopes turned, for from my childhood I have never seen +the heave of the sea or tasted the salt upon my lips without feeling +the blood of five generations of seamen thrill within my veins. +And think of the challenge which was ever waving in those days before +the eyes of a coast-living lad! I had but to walk up to Wolstonbury +in the war time to see the sails of the French chasse-marées +and privateers. Again and again I have heard the roar of the guns +coming from far out over the waters. Seamen would tell us how +they had left London and been engaged ere nightfall, or sailed out of +Portsmouth and been yard-arm to yard-arm before they had lost sight +of St. Helen’s light. It was this imminence of the danger +which warmed our hearts to our sailors, and made us talk, round the +winter fires, of our little Nelson, and Cuddie Collingwood, and Johnnie +Jarvis, and the rest of them, not as being great High Admirals with +titles and dignities, but as good friends whom we loved and honoured +above all others. What boy was there through the length and breadth +of Britain who did not long to be out with them under the red-cross +flag?<br> +<br> +But now that peace had come, and the fleets which had swept the Channel +and the Mediterranean were lying dismantled in our harbours, there was +less to draw one’s fancy seawards. It was London now of +which I thought by day and brooded by night: the huge city, the home +of the wise and the great, from which came this constant stream of carriages, +and those crowds of dusty people who were for ever flashing past our +window-pane. It was this one side of life which first presented +itself to me, and so, as a boy, I used to picture the City as a gigantic +stable with a huge huddle of coaches, which were for ever streaming +off down the country roads. But, then, Champion Harrison told +me how the fighting-men lived there, and my father how the heads of +the Navy lived there, and my mother how her brother and his grand friends +were there, until at last I was consumed with impatience to see this +marvellous heart of England. This coming of my uncle, then, was +the breaking of light through the darkness, though I hardly dared to +hope that he would take me with him into those high circles in which +he lived. My mother, however, had such confidence either in his +good nature or in her own powers of persuasion, that she already began +to make furtive preparations for my departure.<br> +<br> +But if the narrowness of the village life chafed my easy spirit, it +was a torture to the keen and ardent mind of Boy Jim. It was but +a few days after the coming of my uncle’s letter that we walked +over the Downs together, and I had a peep of the bitterness of his heart.<br> +<br> +“What is there for me to do, Rodney?” he cried. “I +forge a shoe, and I fuller it, and I clip it, and I caulken it, and +I knock five holes in it, and there it is finished. Then I do +it again and again, and blow up the bellows and feed the forge, and +rasp a hoof or two, and there is a day’s work done, and every +day the same as the other. Was it for this only, do you think, +that I was born into the world?”<br> +<br> +I looked at him, his proud, eagle face, and his tall, sinewy figure, +and I wondered whether in the whole land there was a finer, handsomer +man.<br> +<br> +“The Army or the Navy is the place for you, Jim,” said I.<br> +<br> +“That is very well,” he cried. “If you go into +the Navy, as you are likely to do, you go as an officer, and it is you +who do the ordering. If I go in, it is as one who was born to +receive orders.”<br> +<br> +“An officer gets his orders from those above him.”<br> +<br> +“But an officer does not have the lash hung over his head. +I saw a poor fellow at the inn here - it was some years ago - who showed +us his back in the tap-room, all cut into red diamonds with the boat-swain’s +whip. ‘Who ordered that?’ I asked. ‘The +captain,’ said he. ‘And what would you have had if +you had struck him dead?’ said I. ‘The yard-arm,’ +he answered. ‘Then if I had been you that’s where +I should have been,’ said I, and I spoke the truth. I can’t +help it, Rod! There’s something here in my heart, something +that is as much a part of myself as this hand is, which holds me to +it.”<br> +<br> +“I know that you are as proud as Lucifer,” said I.<br> +<br> +“It was born with me, Roddy, and I can’t help it. +Life would be easier if I could. I was made to be my own master, +and there’s only one place where I can hope to be so.”<br> +<br> +“Where is that, Jim?”<br> +<br> +“In London. Miss Hinton has told me of it, until I feel +as if I could find my way through it from end to end. She loves +to talk of it as well as I do to listen. I have it all laid out +in my mind, and I can see where the playhouses are, and how the river +runs, and where the King’s house is, and the Prince’s, and +the place where the fighting-men live. I could make my name known +in London.”<br> +<br> +“How?”<br> +<br> +“Never mind how, Rod. I could do it, and I will do it, too. +‘Wait!’ says my uncle - ‘wait, and it will all come +right for you.’ That is what he always says, and my aunt +the same. Why should I wait? What am I to wait for? +No, Roddy, I’ll stay no longer eating my heart out in this little +village, but I’ll leave my apron behind me and I’ll seek +my fortune in London, and when I come back to Friar’s Oak, it +will be in such style as that gentleman yonder.”<br> +<br> +He pointed as he spoke, and there was a high crimson curricle coming +down the London road, with two bay mares harnessed tandem fashion before +it. The reins and fittings were of a light fawn colour, and the +gentleman had a driving-coat to match, with a servant in dark livery +behind. They flashed past us in a rolling cloud of dust, and I +had just a glimpse of the pale, handsome face of the master, and of +the dark, shrivelled features of the man. I should never have +given them another thought had it not chanced that when the village +came into view there was the curricle again, standing at the door of +the inn, and the grooms busy taking out the horses.<br> +<br> +“Jim,” I cried, “I believe it is my uncle!” +and taking to my heels I ran for home at the top of my speed. +At the door was standing the dark-faced servant. He carried a +cushion, upon which lay a small and fluffy lapdog.<br> +<br> +“You will excuse me, young sir,” said he, in the suavest, +most soothing of voices, “but am I right in supposing that this +is the house of Lieutenant Stone? In that case you will, perhaps, +do me the favour to hand to Mrs. Stone this note which her brother, +Sir Charles Tregellis, has just committed to my care.”<br> +<br> +I was quite abashed by the man’s flowery way of talking - so unlike +anything which I had ever heard. He had a wizened face, and sharp +little dark eyes, which took in me and the house and my mother’s +startled face at the window all in the instant. My parents were +together, the two of them, in the sitting-room, and my mother read the +note to us.<br> +<br> +“My dear Mary,” it ran, “I have stopped at the inn, +because I am somewhat <i>ravagé </i>by the dust of your Sussex +roads. A lavender-water bath may restore me to a condition in +which I may fitly pay my compliments to a lady. Meantime, I send +you Fidelio as a hostage. Pray give him a half-pint of warmish +milk with six drops of pure brandy in it. A better or more faithful +creature never lived. <i>Toujours à toi. - </i>Charles.”<br> +<br> +“Have him in! Have him in!” cried my father, heartily, +running to the door. “Come in, Mr. Fidelio. Every +man to his own taste, and six drops to the half-pint seems a sinful +watering of grog - but if you like it so, you shall have it.”<br> +<br> +A smile flickered over the dark face of the servant, but his features +reset themselves instantly into their usual mask of respectful observance.<br> +<br> +“You are labouring under a slight error, sir, if you will permit +me to say so. My name is Ambrose, and I have the honour to be +the valet of Sir Charles Tregellis. This is Fidelio upon the cushion.”<br> +<br> +“Tut, the dog!” cried my father, in disgust. “Heave +him down by the fireside. Why should he have brandy, when many +a Christian has to go without?”<br> +<br> +“Hush, Anson!” said my mother, taking the cushion. +“You will tell Sir Charles that his wishes shall be carried out, +and that we shall expect him at his own convenience.”<br> +<br> +The man went off noiselessly and swiftly, but was back in a few minutes +with a flat brown basket.<br> +<br> +“It is the refection, madam,” said he. “Will +you permit me to lay the table? Sir Charles is accustomed to partake +of certain dishes and to drink certain wines, so that we usually bring +them with us when we visit.” He opened the basket, and in +a minute he had the table all shining with silver and glass, and studded +with dainty dishes. So quick and neat and silent was he in all +he did, that my father was as taken with him as I was.<br> +<br> +“You’d have made a right good foretopman if your heart is +as stout as your fingers are quick,” said he. “Did +you never wish to have the honour of serving your country?”<br> +<br> +“It is my honour, sir, to serve Sir Charles Tregellis, and I desire +no other master,” he answered. “But I will convey +his dressing-case from the inn, and then all will be ready.”<br> +<br> +He came back with a great silver-mounted box under his arm, and close +at his heels was the gentleman whose coming had made such a disturbance.<br> +<br> +My first impression of my uncle as he entered the room was that one +of his eyes was swollen to the size of an apple. It caught the +breath from my lips - that monstrous, glistening eye. But the +next instant I perceived that he held a round glass in the front of +it, which magnified it in this fashion. He looked at us each in +turn, and then he bowed very gracefully to my mother and kissed her +upon either cheek.<br> +<br> +“You will permit me to compliment you, my dear Mary,” said +he, in a voice which was the most mellow and beautiful that I have ever +heard. “I can assure you that the country air has used you +wondrous well, and that I should be proud to see my pretty sister in +the Mall. I am your servant, sir,” he continued, holding +out his hand to my father. “It was but last week that I +had the honour of dining with my friend, Lord St. Vincent, and I took +occasion to mention you to him. I may tell you that your name +is not forgotten at the Admiralty, sir, and I hope that I may see you +soon walking the poop of a 74-gun ship of your own. So this is +my nephew, is it?” He put a hand upon each of my shoulders +in a very friendly way and looked me up and down.<br> +<br> +“How old are you, nephew?” he asked.<br> +<br> +“Seventeen, sir.”<br> +<br> +“You look older. You look eighteen, at the least. +I find him very passable, Mary - very passable, indeed. He has +not the <i>bel </i>air, the <i>tournure </i>- in our uncouth English +we have no word for it. But he is as healthy as a May-hedge in +bloom.”<br> +<br> +So within a minute of his entering our door he had got himself upon +terms with all of us, and with so easy and graceful a manner that it +seemed as if he had known us all for years. I had a good look +at him now as he stood upon the hearthrug with my mother upon one side +and my father on the other. He was a very large man, with noble +shoulders, small waist, broad hips, well-turned legs, and the smallest +of hands and feet. His face was pale and handsome, with a prominent +chin, a jutting nose, and large blue staring eyes, in which a sort of +dancing, mischievous light was for ever playing. He wore a deep +brown coat with a collar as high as his ears and tails as low as his +knees. His black breeches and silk stockings ended in very small +pointed shoes, so highly polished that they twinkled with every movement. +His vest was of black velvet, open at the top to show an embroidered +shirt-front, with a high, smooth, white cravat above it, which kept +his neck for ever on the stretch. He stood easily, with one thumb +in the arm-pit, and two fingers of the other hand in his vest pocket. +It made me proud as I watched him to think that so magnificent a man, +with such easy, masterful ways, should be my own blood relation, and +I could see from my mother’s eyes as they turned towards him that +the same thought was in her mind.<br> +<br> +All this time Ambrose had been standing like a dark-clothed, bronze-faced +image by the door, with the big silver-bound box under his arm. +He stepped forward now into the room.<br> +<br> +“Shall I convey it to your bedchamber, Sir Charles?”<i> +</i>he asked.<br> +<br> +“Ah, pardon me, sister Mary,” cried my uncle, “I am +old-fashioned enough to have principles - an anachronism, I know, in +this lax age. One of them is never to allow my <i>batterie de +toilette </i>out of my sight when I am travelling. I cannot readily +forget the agonies which I endured some years ago through neglecting +this precaution. I will do Ambrose the justice to say that it +was before he took charge of my affairs. I was compelled to wear +the same ruffles upon two consecutive days. On the third morning +my fellow was so affected by the sight of my condition, that he burst +into tears and laid out a pair which he had stolen from me.”<br> +<br> +As he spoke his face was very grave, but the light in his eyes danced +and gleamed. He handed his open snuff-box to my father, as Ambrose +followed my mother out of the room.<br> +<br> +“You number yourself in an illustrious company by upping your +finger and thumb into it,” said he.<br> +<br> +“Indeed, sir!” said my father, shortly.<br> +<br> +“You are free of my box, as being a relative by marriage. +You are free also, nephew, and I pray you to take a pinch. It +is the most intimate sign of my goodwill. Outside ourselves there +are four, I think, who have had access to it - the Prince, of course; +Mr Pitt; Monsieur Otto, the French Ambassador; and Lord Hawkesbury. +I have sometimes thought that I was premature with Lord Hawkesbury.”<br> +<br> +“I am vastly honoured, sir,” said my father, looking suspiciously +at his guest from under his shaggy eyebrows, for with that grave face +and those twinkling eyes it was hard to know how to take him.<br> +<br> +“A woman, sir, has her love to bestow,” said my uncle. +“A man has his snuff-box. Neither is to be lightly offered. +It is a lapse of taste; nay, more, it is a breach of morals. Only +the other day, as I was seated in Watier’s, my box of prime macouba +open upon the table beside me, an Irish bishop thrust in his intrusive +fingers. ‘Waiter,’ I cried, ‘my box has been +soiled! Remove it!’ The man meant no insult, you understand, +but that class of people must be kept in their proper sphere.’<br> +<br> +“A bishop!” cried my father. “You draw your +line very high, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir,” said my uncle; “I wish no better epitaph +upon my tombstone.”<br> +<br> +My mother had in the meanwhile descended, and we all drew up to the +table.<br> +<br> +“You will excuse my apparent grossness, Mary, in venturing to +bring my own larder with me. Abernethy has me under his orders, +and I must eschew your rich country dainties. A little white wine +and a cold bird - it is as much as the niggardly Scotchman will allow +me.”<br> +<br> +“We should have you on blockading service when the levanters are +blowing,” said my father. “Salt junk and weevilly +biscuits, with a rib of a tough Barbary ox when the tenders come in. +You would have your spare diet there, sir.”<br> +<br> +Straightway my uncle began to question him about the sea service, and +for the whole meal my father was telling him of the Nile and of the +Toulon blockade, and the siege of Genoa, and all that he had seen and +done. But whenever he faltered for a word, my uncle always had +it ready for him, and it was hard to say which knew most about the business.<br> +<br> +“No, I read little or nothing,” said he, when my father +marvelled where he got his knowledge. “The fact is that +I can hardly pick up a print without seeing some allusion to myself: +‘Sir C. T. does this,’ or ‘Sir C. T. says the other,’ +so I take them no longer. But if a man is in my position all knowledge +comes to him. The Duke of York tells me of the Army in the morning, +and Lord Spencer chats with me of the Navy in the afternoon, and Dundas +whispers me what is going forward in the Cabinet, so that I have little +need of the <i>Times </i>or the <i>Morning Chronicle.”<br> +<br> +</i>This set him talking of the great world of London, telling my father +about the men who were his masters at the Admiralty, and my mother about +the beauties of the town, and the great ladies at Almack’s, but +all in the same light, fanciful way, so that one never knew whether +to laugh or to take him gravely. I think it flattered him to see +the way in which we all three hung upon his words. Of some he +thought highly and of some lowly, but he made no secret that the highest +of all, and the one against whom all others should be measured, was +Sir Charles Tregellis himself.<br> +<br> +“As to the King,” said he, “of course, I am <i>l’ami +de famille </i>there; and even with you I can scarce speak freely, as +my relations are confidential.”<br> +<br> +“God bless him and keep him from ill!” cried my father.<br> +<br> +“It is pleasant to hear you say so,” said my uncle. +“One has to come into the country to hear honest loyalty, for +a sneer and a gibe are more the fashions in town. The King is +grateful to me for the interest which I have ever shown in his son. +He likes to think that the Prince has a man of taste in his circle.”<br> +<br> +“And the Prince?” asked my mother. “Is he well-favoured?”<br> +<br> +“He is a fine figure of a man. At a distance he has been +mistaken for me. And he has some taste in dress, though he gets +slovenly if I am too long away from him. I warrant you that I +find a crease in his coat to-morrow.”<br> +<br> +We were all seated round the fire by this time, for the evening had +turned chilly. The lamp was lighted and so also was my father’s +pipe.<br> +<br> +“I suppose,” said he, “that this is your first visit +to Friar’s Oak?”<br> +<br> +My uncle’s face turned suddenly very grave and stern.<br> +<br> +“It is my first visit for many years,” said he. “I +was but one-and-twenty years of age when last I came here. I am +not likely to forget it.”<br> +<br> +I knew that he spoke of his visit to Cliffe Royal at the time of the +murder, and I saw by her face that my mother knew it also. My +father, however, had either never heard of it, or had forgotten the +circumstance.<br> +<br> +“Was it at the inn you stayed?” he asked.<br> +<br> +“I stayed with the unfortunate Lord Avon. It was the occasion +when he was accused of slaying his younger brother and fled from the +country.”<br> +<br> +We all fell silent, and my uncle leaned his chin upon his hand, looking +thoughtfully into the fire. If I do but close my eyes now, I can +see the light upon his proud, handsome face, and see also my dear father, +concerned at having touched upon so terrible a memory, shooting little +slanting glances at him betwixt the puffs of his pipe.<br> +<br> +“I dare say that it has happened with you, sir,” said my +uncle at last, “that you have lost some dear messmate, in battle +or wreck, and that you have put him out of your mind in the routine +of your daily life, until suddenly some word or some scene brings him +back to your memory, and you find your sorrow as raw as upon the first +day of your loss.”<br> +<br> +My father nodded.<br> +<br> +“So it is with me to-night. I never formed a close friendship +with a man - I say nothing of women - save only the once. That +was with Lord Avon. We were of an age, he a few years perhaps +my senior, but our tastes, our judgments, and our characters were alike, +save only that he had in him a touch of pride such as I have never known +in any other man. Putting aside the little foibles of a rich young +man of fashion, <i>les indescrétions d’une jeunesse dorée</i>, +I could have sworn that he was as good a man as I have ever known.”<br> +<br> +“How came he, then, to such a crime?” asked my father.<br> +<br> +My uncle shook his head.<br> +<br> +“Many a time have I asked myself that question, and it comes home +to me more to-night than ever.”<br> +<br> +All the jauntiness had gone out of his manner, and he had turned suddenly +into a sad and serious man.<br> +<br> +“Was it certain that he did it, Charles?” asked my mother.<br> +<br> +My uncle shrugged his shoulders.<br> +<br> +“I wish I could think it were not so. I have thought sometimes +that it was this very pride, turning suddenly to madness, which drove +him to it. You have heard how he returned the money which we had +lost?”<br> +<br> +“Nay, I have heard nothing of it,” my father answered.<br> +<br> +“It is a very old story now, though we have not yet found an end +to it. We had played for two days, the four of us: Lord Avon, +his brother Captain Barrington, Sir Lothian Hume, and myself. +Of the Captain I knew little, save that he was not of the best repute, +and was deep in the hands of the Jews. Sir Lothian has made an +evil name for himself since - ’tis the same Sir Lothian who shot +Lord Carton in the affair at Chalk Farm - but in those days there was +nothing against him. The oldest of us was but twenty-four, and +we gamed on, as I say, until the Captain had cleared the board. +We were all hit, but our host far the hardest.<br> +<br> +“That night - I tell you now what it would be a bitter thing for +me to tell in a court of law - I was restless and sleepless, as often +happens when a man has kept awake over long. My mind would dwell +upon the fall of the cards, and I was tossing and turning in my bed, +when suddenly a cry fell upon my ears, and then a second louder one, +coming from the direction of Captain Barrington’s room. +Five minutes later I heard steps passing down the passage, and, without +striking a light, I opened my door and peeped out, thinking that some +one was taken unwell. There was Lord Avon walking towards me. +In one hand he held a guttering candle and in the other a brown bag, +which chinked as he moved. His face was all drawn and distorted +- so much so that my question was frozen upon my lips. Before +I could utter it he turned into his chamber and softly closed the door.<br> +<br> +“Next morning I was awakened by finding him at my bedside.<br> +<br> +“‘Charles,’ said he, ‘I cannot abide to think +that you should have lost this money in my house. You will find +it here upon your table.’<br> +<br> +“It was in vain that I laughed at his squeamishness, telling him +that I should most certainly have claimed my money had I won, so that +it would be strange indeed if I were not permitted to pay it when I +lost.<br> +<br> +“‘Neither I nor my brother will touch it,’ said he. +‘There it lies, and you may do what you like about it.’<br> +<br> +“He would listen to no argument, but dashed out of the room like +a madman. But perhaps these details are familiar to you, and God +knows they are painful to me to tell.”<br> +<br> +My father was sitting with staring eyes, and his forgotten pipe reeking +in his hand.<br> +<br> +“Pray let us hear the end of it, sir,” he cried.<br> +<br> +“Well, then, I had finished my toilet in an hour or so - for I +was less exigeant in those days than now - and I met Sir Lothian Hume +at breakfast. His experience had been the same as my own, and +he was eager to see Captain Barrington; and to ascertain why he had +directed his brother to return the money to us. We were talking +the matter over when suddenly I raised my eyes to the corner of the +ceiling, and I saw - I saw - ”<br> +<br> +My uncle had turned quite pale with the vividness of the memory, and +he passed his hand over his eyes.<br> +<br> +“It was crimson,” said he, with a shudder - “crimson +with black cracks, and from every crack - but I will give you dreams, +sister Mary. Suffice it that we rushed up the stair which led +direct to the Captain’s room, and there we found him lying with +the bone gleaming white through his throat. A hunting-knife lay +in the room - and the knife was Lord Avon’s. A lace ruffle +was found in the dead man’s grasp - and the ruffle was Lord Avon’s. +Some papers were found charred in the grate - and the papers were Lord +Avon’s. Oh, my poor friend, in what moment of madness did +you come to do such a deed?”<br> +<br> +The light had gone out of my uncle’s eyes and the extravagance +from his manner. His speech was clear and plain, with none of +those strange London ways which had so amazed me. Here was a second +uncle, a man of heart and a man of brains, and I liked him better than +the first.<br> +<br> +“And what said Lord Avon?” cried my father.<br> +<br> +“He said nothing. He went about like one who walks in his +sleep, with horror-stricken eyes. None dared arrest him until +there should be due inquiry, but when the coroner’s court brought +wilful murder against him, the constables came for him in full cry. +But they found him fled. There was a rumour that he had been seen +in Westminster in the next week, and then that he had escaped for America, +but nothing more is known. It will be a bright day for Sir Lothian +Hume when they can prove him dead, for he is next of kin, and till then +he can touch neither title nor estate.”<br> +<br> +The telling of this grim story had cast a chill upon all of us. +My uncle held out his hands towards the blaze, and I noticed that they +were as white as the ruffles which fringed them.<br> +<br> +“I know not how things are at Cliffe Royal now,” said he, +thoughtfully. “It was not a cheery house, even before this +shadow fell upon it. A fitter stage was never set forth for such +a tragedy. But seventeen years have passed, and perhaps even that +horrible ceiling - ”<br> +<br> +“It still bears the stain,” said I.<br> +<br> +I know not which of the three was the more astonished, for my mother +had not heard of my adventures of the night. They never took their +wondering eyes off me as I told my story, and my heart swelled with +pride when my uncle said that we had carried ourselves well, and that +he did not think that many of our age would have stood it as stoutly.<br> +<br> +“But as to this ghost, it must have been the creature of your +own minds,” said he. “Imagination plays us strange +tricks, and though I have as steady a nerve as a man might wish, I cannot +answer for what I might see if I were to stand under that blood-stained +ceiling at midnight.”<br> +<br> +“Uncle,” said I, “I saw a figure as plainly as I see +that fire, and I heard the steps as clearly as I hear the crackle of +the fagots. Besides, we could not both be deceived.”<br> +<br> +“There is truth in that,” said be, thoughtfully. “You +saw no features, you say?”<br> +<br> +“It was too dark.”<br> +<br> +“But only a figure?”<br> +<br> +“The dark outline of one.”<br> +<br> +“And it retreated up the stairs?”<br> +<br> +“Yes.”<br> +<br> +“And vanished into the wall?”<br> +<br> +“Yes.”<br> +<br> +“What part of the wall?” cried a voice from behind us.<br> +<br> +My mother screamed, and down came my father’s pipe on to the hearthrug. +I had sprung round with a catch of my breath, and there was the valet, +Ambrose, his body in the shadow of the doorway, his dark face protruded +into the light, and two burning eyes fixed upon mine.<br> +<br> +“What the deuce is the meaning of this, sir?” cried my uncle.<br> +<br> +It was strange to see the gleam and passion fade out of the man’s +face, and the demure mask of the valet replace it. His eyes still +smouldered, but his features regained their prim composure in an instant.<br> +<br> +“I beg your pardon, Sir Charles,” said he. “I +had come in to ask you if you had any orders for me, and I did not like +to interrupt the young gentleman’s story. I am afraid that +I have been somewhat carried away by it.”<br> +<br> +“I never knew you forget yourself before,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“You will, I am sure, forgive me, Sir Charles, if you will call +to mind the relation in which I stood to Lord Avon.” He +spoke with some dignity of manner, and with a bow he left the room.<br> +<br> +“We must make some little allowance,” said my uncle, with +a sudden return to his jaunty manner. “When a man can brew +a dish of chocolate, or tie a cravat, as Ambrose does, he may claim +consideration. The fact is that the poor fellow was valet to Lord +Avon, that he was at Cliffe Royal upon the fatal night of which I have +spoken, and that he is most devoted to his old master. But my +talk has been somewhat <i>triste, </i>sister Mary, and now we shall +return, if you please, to the dresses of the Countess Lieven, and the +gossip of St. James.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VI - ON THE THRESHOLD<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My father sent me to bed early that night, though I was very eager to +stay up, for every word which this man said held my attention. +His face, his manner, the large waves and sweeps of his white hands, +his easy air of superiority, his fantastic fashion of talk, all filled +me with interest and wonder. But, as I afterwards learned, their +conversation was to be about myself and my own prospects, so I was despatched +to my room, whence far into the night I could hear the deep growl of +my father and the rich tones of my uncle, with an occasional gentle +murmur from my mother, as they talked in the room beneath.<br> +<br> +I had dropped asleep at last, when I was awakened suddenly by something +wet being pressed against my face, and by two warm arms which were cast +round me. My mother’s cheek was against my own, and I could +hear the click of her sobs, and feel her quiver and shake in the darkness. +A faint light stole through the latticed window, and I could dimly see +that she was in white, with her black hair loose upon her shoulders.<br> +<br> +“You won’t forget us, Roddy? You won’t forget +us?”<br> +<br> +“Why, mother, what is it?”<br> +<br> +“Your uncle, Roddy - he is going to take you away from us.”<br> +<br> +“When, mother?”<br> +<br> +“To-morrow.”<br> +<br> +God forgive me, how my heart bounded for joy, when hers, which was within +touch of it, was breaking with sorrow!<br> +<br> +“Oh, mother!” I cried. “To London?”<br> +<br> +“First to Brighton, that he may present you to the Prince. +Next day to London, where you will meet the great people, Roddy, and +learn to look down upon - to look down upon your poor, simple, old-fashioned +father and mother.”<br> +<br> +I put my arms about her to console her, but she wept so that, for all +my seventeen years and pride of manhood, it set me weeping also, and +with such a hiccoughing noise, since I had not a woman’s knack +of quiet tears, that it finally turned her own grief to laughter.<br> +<br> +“Charles would be flattered if he could see the gracious way in +which we receive his kindness,” said she. “Be still, +Roddy dear, or you will certainly wake him.”<br> +<br> +“I’ll not go if it is to grieve you,” I cried.<br> +<br> +“Nay, dear, you must go, for it may be the one great chance of +your life. And think how proud it will make us all when we hear +of you in the company of Charles’s grand friends. But you +will promise me not to gamble, Roddy? You heard to-night of the +dreadful things which come from it.”<br> +<br> +“I promise you, mother.”<br> +<br> +“And you will be careful of wine, Roddy? You are young and +unused to it.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, mother.”<br> +<br> +“And play-actresses also, Roddy. And you will not cast your +underclothing until June is in. Young Master Overton came by his +death through it. Think well of your dress, Roddy, so as to do +your uncle credit, for it is the thing for which he is himself most +famed. You have but to do what he will direct. But if there +is a time when you are not meeting grand people, you can wear out your +country things, for your brown coat is as good as new, and the blue +one, if it were ironed and relined, would take you through the summer. +I have put out your Sunday clothes with the nankeen vest, since you +are to see the Prince to-morrow, and you will wear your brown silk stockings +and buckle shoes. Be guarded in crossing the London streets, for +I am told that the hackney coaches are past all imagining. Fold +your clothes when you go to bed, Roddy, and do not forget your evening +prayers, for, oh, my dear boy, the days of temptation are at hand, when +I will no longer be with you to help you.”<br> +<br> +So with advice and guidance both for this world and the next did my +mother, with her soft, warm arms around me, prepare me for the great +step which lay before me.<br> +<br> +My uncle did not appear at breakfast in the morning, but Ambrose brewed +him a dish of chocolate and took it to his room. When at last, +about midday, he did descend, he was so fine with his curled hair, his +shining teeth, his quizzing glass, his snow-white ruffles, and his laughing +eyes, that I could not take my gaze from him.<br> +<br> +“Well, nephew,” he cried, “what do you think of the +prospect of coming to town with me?”<br> +<br> +“I thank you, sir, for the kind interest which you take in me,” +said I.<br> +<br> +“But you must be a credit to me. My nephew must be of the +best if he is to be in keeping with the rest of me.”<br> +<br> +“You’ll find him a chip of good wood, sir,” said my +father.<br> +<br> +“We must make him a polished chip before we have done with him. +Your aim, my dear nephew, must always be to be in <i>bon ton</i>. +It is not a case of wealth, you understand. Mere riches cannot +do it. Golden Price has forty thousand a year, but his clothes +are disastrous. I assure you that I saw him come down St. James’s +Street the other day, and I was so shocked at his appearance that I +had to step into Vernet’s for a glass of orange brandy. +No, it is a question of natural taste, and of following the advice and +example of those who are more experienced than yourself.”<br> +<br> +“I fear, Charles, that Roddy’s wardrobe is country-made,” +said my mother.<br> +<br> +“We shall soon set that right when we get to town. We shall +see what Stultz or Weston can do for him,” my uncle answered. +“We must keep him quiet until he has some clothes to wear.”<br> +<br> +This slight upon my best Sunday suit brought a flush to my mother’s +cheeks, which my uncle instantly observed, for he was quick in noticing +trifles.<br> +<br> +“The clothes are very well for Friar’s Oak, sister Mary,” +said he. “And yet you can understand that they might seem +<i>rococo </i>in the Mall. If you leave him in my hands I shall +see to the matter.”<br> +<br> +“On how much, sir,” asked my father, “can a young +man dress in town?”<br> +<br> +“With prudence and reasonable care, a young man of fashion can +dress upon eight hundred a year,” my uncle answered.<br> +<br> +I saw my poor father’s face grow longer.<br> +<br> +“I fear, sir, that Roddy must keep his country clothes,” +said he. “Even with my prize-money - ”<br> +<br> +“Tut, sir!” cried my uncle. “I already owe Weston +something over a thousand, so how can a few odd hundreds affect it? +If my nephew comes with me, my nephew is my care. The point is +settled, and I must refuse to argue upon it.” He waved his +white hands as if to brush aside all opposition.<br> +<br> +My parents tried to thank him, but he cut them short.<br> +<br> +“By the way, now that I am in Friar’s Oak, there is another +small piece of business which I have to perform,” said he. +“I believe that there is a fighting-man named Harrison here, who +at one time might have held the championship. In those days poor +Avon and I were his principal backers. I should like to have a +word with him.”<br> +<br> +You may think how proud I was to walk down the village street with my +magnificent relative, and to note out of the corner of my eye how the +folk came to the doors and windows to see us pass. Champion Harrison +was standing outside the smithy, and he pulled his cap off when he saw +my uncle.<br> +<br> +“God bless me, sir! Who’d ha’ thought of seem’ +you at Friar’s Oak? Why, Sir Charles, it brings old memories +back to look at your face again.”<br> +<br> +“Glad to see you looking so fit, Harrison,” said my uncle, +running his eyes over him. “Why, with a week’s training +you would be as good a man as ever. I don’t suppose you +scale more than thirteen and a half?”<br> +<br> +“Thirteen ten, Sir Charles. I’m in my fortieth year, +but I am sound in wind and limb, and if my old woman would have let +me off my promise, I’d ha’ had a try with some of these +young ones before now. I hear that they’ve got some amazin’ +good stuff up from Bristol of late.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, the Bristol yellowman has been the winning colour of late. +How d’ye do, Mrs. Harrison? I don’t suppose you remember +me?”<br> +<br> +She had come out from the house, and I noticed that her worn face - +on which some past terror seemed to have left its shadow - hardened +into stern lines as she looked at my uncle.<br> +<br> +“I remember you too well, Sir Charles Tregellis,” said she. +“I trust that you have not come here to-day to try to draw my +husband back into the ways that he has forsaken.”<br> +<br> +“That’s the way with her, Sir Charles,” said Harrison, +resting his great hand upon the woman’s shoulder. “She’s +got my promise, and she holds me to it! There was never a better +or more hard-working wife, but she ain’t what you’d call +a patron of sport, and that’s a fact.”<br> +<br> +“Sport!” cried the woman, bitterly. “A fine +sport for you, Sir Charles, with your pleasant twenty-mile drive into +the country and your luncheon-basket and your wines, and so merrily +back to London in the cool of the evening, with a well-fought battle +to talk over. Think of the sport that it was to me to sit through +the long hours, listening for the wheels of the chaise which would bring +my man back to me. Sometimes he could walk in, and sometimes he +was led in, and sometimes he was carried in, and it was only by his +clothes that I could know him - ”<br> +<br> +“Come, wifie,” said Harrison, patting her on the shoulder. +“I’ve been cut up in my time, but never as bad as that.”<br> +<br> +“And then to live for weeks afterwards with the fear that every +knock at the door may be to tell us that the other is dead, and that +my man may have to stand in the dock and take his trial for murder.”<br> +<br> +“No, she hasn’t got a sportin’ drop in her veins,” +said Harrison. “She’d never make a patron, never! +It’s Black Baruk’s business that did it, when we thought +he’d napped it once too often. Well, she has my promise, +and I’ll never sling my hat over the ropes unless she gives me +leave.”<br> +<br> +“You’ll keep your hat on your head like an honest, God-fearing +man, John,” said his wife, turning back into the house.<br> +<br> +“I wouldn’t for the world say anything to make you change +your resolutions,” said my uncle. “At the same time, +if you had wished to take a turn at the old sport, I had a good thing +to put in your way.”<br> +<br> +“Well, it’s no use, sir,” said Harrison, “but +I’d be glad to hear about it all the same.”<br> +<br> +“They have a very good bit of stuff at thirteen stone down Gloucester +way. Wilson is his name, and they call him Crab on account of +his style.”<br> +<br> +Harrison shook his head. “Never heard of him, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Very likely not, for he has never shown in the P.R. But +they think great things of him in the West, and he can hold his own +with either of the Belchers with the mufflers.”<br> +<br> +“Sparrin’ ain’t fightin’,” said the smith<br> +<br> +“I am told that he had the best of it in a by-battle with Noah +James, of Cheshire.”<br> +<br> +“There’s no gamer man on the list, sir, than Noah James, +the guardsman,” said Harrison. “I saw him myself fight +fifty rounds after his jaw had been cracked in three places. If +Wilson could beat him, Wilson will go far.”<br> +<br> +“So they think in the West, and they mean to spring him on the +London talent. Sir Lothian Hume is his patron, and to make a long +story short, he lays me odds that I won’t find a young one of +his weight to meet him. I told him that I had not heard of any +good young ones, but that I had an old one who had not put his foot +into a ring for many years, who would make his man wish he had never +come to London.<br> +<br> +“‘Young or old, under twenty or over thirty-five, you may +bring whom you will at the weight, and I shall lay two to one on Wilson,’ +said he. I took him in thousands, and here I am.”<br> +<br> +“It won’t do, Sir Charles,” said the smith, shaking +his head. “There’s nothing would please me better, +but you heard for yourself.”<br> +<br> +“Well, if you won’t fight, Harrison, I must try to get some +promising colt. I’d be glad of your advice in the matter. +By the way, I take the chair at a supper of the Fancy at the Waggon +and Horses in St. Martin’s Lane next Friday. I should be +very glad if you will make one of my guests. Halloa, who’s +this?” Up flew his glass to his eye.<br> +<br> +Boy Jim had come out from the forge with his hammer in his hand. +He had, I remember, a grey flannel shirt, which was open at the neck +and turned up at the sleeves. My uncle ran his eyes over the fine +lines of his magnificent figure with the glance of a connoisseur.<br> +<br> +“That’s my nephew, Sir Charles.”<br> +<br> +“Is he living with you?”<br> +<br> +“His parents are dead.”<br> +<br> +“Has he ever been in London?”<br> +<br> +“No, Sir Charles. He’s been with me here since he +was as high as that hammer.”<br> +<br> +My uncle turned to Boy Jim.<br> +<br> +“I hear that you have never been in London,” said he. +“Your uncle is coming up to a supper which I am giving to the +Fancy next Friday. Would you care to make one of us?”<br> +<br> +Boy Jim’s dark eyes sparkled with pleasure.<br> +<br> +“I should be glad to come, sir.”<br> +<br> +“No, no, Jim,” cried the smith, abruptly. “I’m +sorry to gainsay you, lad, but there are reasons why I had rather you +stayed down here with your aunt.”<br> +<br> +“Tut, Harrison, let the lad come!” cried my uncle.<br> +<br> +“No, no, Sir Charles. It’s dangerous company for a +lad of his mettle. There’s plenty for him to do when I’m +away.”<br> +<br> +Poor Jim turned away with a clouded brow and strode into the smithy +again. For my part, I slipped after him to try to console him, +and to tell him all the wonderful changes which had come so suddenly +into my life. But I had not got half through my story, and Jim, +like the good fellow that he was, had just begun to forget his own troubles +in his delight at my good fortune, when my uncle called to me from without. +The curricle with its tandem mares was waiting for us outside the cottage, +and Ambrose had placed the refection-basket, the lap-dog, and the precious +toilet-box inside of it. He had himself climbed up behind, and +I, after a hearty handshake from my father, and a last sobbing embrace +from my mother, took my place beside my uncle in the front.<br> +<br> +“Let go her head!” cried he to the ostler, and with a snap, +a crack, and a jingle, away we went upon our journey.<br> +<br> +Across all the years how clearly I can see that spring day, with the +green English fields, the windy English sky, and the yellow, beetle-browed +cottage in which I had grown from a child to a man. I see, too, +the figures at the garden gate: my mother, with her face turned away +and her handkerchief waving; my father, with his blue coat and his white +shorts, leaning upon his stick with his hand shading his eyes as he +peered after us. All the village was out to see young Roddy Stone +go off with his grand relative from London to call upon the Prince in +his own palace. The Harrisons were waving to me from the smithy, +and John Cummings from the steps of the inn, and I saw Joshua Allen, +my old schoolmaster, pointing me out to the people, as if he were showing +what came from his teaching. To make it complete, who should drive +past just as we cleared the village but Miss Hinton, the play-actress, +the pony and phaeton the same as when first I saw her, but she herself +another woman; and I thought to myself that if Boy Jim had done nothing +but that one thing, he need not think that his youth had been wasted +in the country. She was driving to see him, I have no doubt, for +they were closer than ever, and she never looked up nor saw the hand +that I waved to her. So as we took the curve of the road the little +village vanished, and there in the dip of the Downs, past the spires +of Patcham and of Preston, lay the broad blue sea and the grey houses +of Brighton, with the strange Eastern domes and minarets of the Prince’s +Pavilion shooting out from the centre of it.<br> +<br> +To every traveller it was a sight of beauty, but to me it was the world +- the great wide free world - and my heart thrilled and fluttered as +the young bird’s may when it first hears the whirr of its own +flight, and skims along with the blue heaven above it and the green +fields beneath. The day may come when it may look back regretfully +to the snug nest in the thornbush, but what does it reck of that when +spring is in the air and youth in its blood, and the old hawk of trouble +has not yet darkened the sunshine with the ill-boding shadow of its +wings?<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VII - THE HOPE OF ENGLAND<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle drove for some time in silence, but I was conscious that his +eye was always coming round to me, and I had an uneasy conviction that +he was already beginning to ask himself whether he could make anything +of me, or whether he had been betrayed into an indiscretion when he +had allowed his sister to persuade him to show her son something of +the grand world in which he lived.<br> +<br> +“You sing, don’t you, nephew?” he asked, suddenly.<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir, a little.”<br> +<br> +“A baritone, I should fancy?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir.”<br> +<br> +“And your mother tells me that you play the fiddle. These +things will be of service to you with the Prince. Music runs in +his family. Your education has been what you could get at a village +school. Well, you are not examined in Greek roots in polite society, +which is lucky for some of us. It is as well just to have a tag +or two of Horace or Virgil: ‘sub tegmine fagi,’ or ‘habet +fœnum in cornu,’ which gives a flavour to one’s conversation +like the touch of garlic in a salad. It is not <i>bon ton </i>to +be learned, but it is a graceful thing to indicate that you have forgotten +a good deal. Can you write verse?”<br> +<br> +“I fear not, sir.”<br> +<br> +“A small book of rhymes may be had for half a crown. Vers +de Société are a great assistance to a young man. +If you have the ladies on your side, it does not matter whom you have +against you. You must learn to open a door, to enter a room, to +present a snuff-box, raising the lid with the forefinger of the hand +in which you hold it. You must acquire the bow for a man, with +its necessary touch of dignity, and that for a lady, which cannot be +too humble, and should still contain the least suspicion of abandon. +You must cultivate a manner with women which shall be deprecating and +yet audacious. Have you any eccentricity?”<br> +<br> +It made me laugh, the easy way in which he asked the question, as if +it were a most natural thing to possess.<br> +<br> +“You have a pleasant, catching laugh, at all events,” said +he. “But an eccentricity is very <i>bon ton </i>at present, +and if you feel any leaning towards one, I should certainly advise you +to let it run its course. Petersham would have remained a mere +peer all his life had it not come out that he had a snuff-box for every +day in the year, and that he had caught cold through a mistake of his +valet, who sent him out on a bitter winter day with a thin Sèvres +china box instead of a thick tortoiseshell. That brought him out +of the ruck, you see, and people remember him. Even some small +characteristic, such as having an apricot tart on your sideboard all +the year round, or putting your candle out at night by stuffing it under +your pillow, serves to separate you from your neighbour. In my +own case, it is my precise judgment upon matter of dress and decorum +which has placed me where I am. I do not profess to follow a law. +I set one. For example, I am taking you to-day to see the Prince +in a nankeen vest. What do you think will be the consequence of +that?”<br> +<br> +My fears told me that it might be my own very great discomfiture, but +I did not say so.<br> +<br> +“Why, the night coach will carry the news to London. It +will be in Brookes’s and White’s to-morrow morning. +Within, a week St. James’s Street and the Mall will be full of +nankeen waistcoats. A most painful incident happened to me once. +My cravat came undone in the street, and I actually walked from Carlton +House to Watier’s in Bruton Street with the two ends hanging loose. +Do you suppose it shook my position? The same evening there were +dozens of young bloods walking the streets of London with their cravats +loose. If I had not rearranged mine there would not be one tied +in the whole kingdom now, and a great art would have been prematurely +lost. You have not yet began to practise it?”<br> +<br> +I confessed that I had not.<br> +<br> +“You should begin now in your youth. I will myself teach +you the <i>coup d’archet</i>. By using a few hours in each +day, which would otherwise be wasted, you may hope to have excellent +cravats in middle life. The whole knack lies in pointing your +chin to the sky, and then arranging your folds by the gradual descent +of your lower jaw.”<br> +<br> +When my uncle spoke like this there was always that dancing, mischievous +light in his dark blue eyes, which showed me that this humour of his +was a conscious eccentricity, depending, as I believe, upon a natural +fastidiousness of taste, but wilfully driven to grotesque lengths for +the very reason which made him recommend me also to develop some peculiarity +of my own. When I thought of the way in which he had spoken of +his unhappy friend, Lord Avon, upon the evening before, and of the emotion +which he showed as he told the horrible story, I was glad to think that +there was the heart of a man there, however much it might please him +to conceal it.<br> +<br> +And, as it happened, I was very soon to have another peep at it, for +a most unexpected event befell us as we drew up in front of the Crown +hotel. A swarm of ostlers and grooms had rushed out to us, and +my uncle, throwing down the reins, gathered Fidelio on his cushion from +under the seat.<br> +<br> +“Ambrose,” he cried, “you may take Fidelio.”<br> +<br> +But there came no answer. The seat behind was unoccupied. +Ambrose was gone.<br> +<br> +We could hardly believe our eyes when we alighted and found that it +was really so. He had most certainly taken his seat there at Friar’s +Oak, and from there on we had come without a break as fast as the mares +could travel. Whither, then, could he have vanished to?<br> +<br> +“He’s fallen off in a fit!” cried my uncle. +“I’d drive back, but the Prince is expecting us. Where’s +the landlord? Here, Coppinger, send your best man back to Friar’s +Oak as fast as his horse can go, to find news of my valet, Ambrose. +See that no pains be spared. Now, nephew, we shall lunch, and +then go up to the Pavilion.”<br> +<br> +My uncle was much disturbed by the strange loss of his valet, the more +so as it was his custom to go through a whole series of washings and +changings after even the shortest journey. For my own part, mindful +of my mother’s advice, I carefully brushed the dust from my clothes +and made myself as neat as possible. My heart was down in the +soles of my little silver-buckled shoes now that I had the immediate +prospect of meeting so great and terrible a person as the Prince of +Wales. I had seen his flaring yellow barouche flying through Friar’s +Oak many a time, and had halloaed and waved my hat with the others as +it passed, but never in my wildest dreams had it entered my head that +I should ever be called upon to look him in the face and answer his +questions. My mother had taught me to regard him with reverence, +as one of those whom God had placed to rule over us; but my uncle smiled +when I told him of her teaching.<br> +<br> +“You are old enough to see things as they are, nephew,” +said he, “and your knowledge of them is the badge that you are +in that inner circle where I mean to place you. There is no one +who knows the Prince better than I do, and there is no one who trusts +him less. A stranger contradiction of qualities was never gathered +under one hat. He is a man who is always in a hurry, and yet has +never anything to do. He fusses about things with which he has +no concern, and he neglects every obvious duty. He is generous +to those who have no claim upon him, but he has ruined his tradesmen +by refusing to pay his just debts. He is affectionate to casual +acquaintances, but he dislikes his father, loathes his mother, and is +not on speaking terms with his wife. He claims to be the first +gentleman of England, but the gentlemen of England have responded by +blackballing his friends at their clubs, and by warning him off from +Newmarket under suspicion of having tampered with a horse. He +spends his days in uttering noble sentiments, and contradicting them +by ignoble actions. He tells stories of his own doings which are +so grotesque that they can only be explained by the madness which runs +in his blood. And yet, with all this, he can be courteous, dignified, +and kindly upon occasion, and I have seen an impulsive good-heartedness +in the man which has made me overlook faults which come mainly from +his being placed in a position which no one upon this earth was ever +less fitted to fill. But this is between ourselves, nephew; and +now you will come with me and you will form an opinion for yourself.”<br> +<br> +It was but a short walk, and yet it took us some time, for my uncle +stalked along with great dignity, his lace-bordered handkerchief in +one hand, and his cane with the clouded amber head dangling from the +other. Every one that we met seemed to know him, and their hats +flew from their heads as we passed. He took little notice of these +greetings, save to give a nod to one, or to slightly raise his forefinger +to another. It chanced, however, that as we turned into the Pavilion +Grounds, we met a magnificent team of four coal-black horses, driven +by a rough-looking, middle-aged fellow in an old weather-stained cape. +There was nothing that I could see to distinguish him from any professional +driver, save that he was chatting very freely with a dainty little woman +who was perched on the box beside him.<br> +<br> +“Halloa, Charlie! Good drive down?” he cried.<br> +<br> +My uncle bowed and smiled to the lady.<br> +<br> +“Broke it at Friar’s Oak,” said he. “I’ve +my light curricle and two new mares - half thorough-bred, half Cleveland +bay.”<br> +<br> +“What d’you think of my team of blacks?” asked the +other.<br> +<br> +“Yes, Sir Charles, what d’you think of them? Ain’t +they damnation smart?” cried the little woman.<br> +<br> +“Plenty of power. Good horses for the Sussex clay. +Too thick about the fetlocks for me. I like to travel.”<br> +<br> +“Travel!” cried the woman, with extraordinary vehemence. +“Why, what the - ” and she broke into such language as I +had never heard from a man’s lips before. “We’d +start with our swingle-bars touching, and we’d have your dinner +ordered, cooked, laid, and eaten before you were there to claim it.”<br> +<br> +“By George, yes, Letty is right!” cried the man. “D’you +start to-morrow?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Jack.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I’ll make you an offer. Look ye here, Charlie! +I’ll spring my cattle from the Castle Square at quarter before +nine. You can follow as the clock strikes. I’ve double +the horses and double the weight. If you so much as see me before +we cross Westminster Bridge, I’ll pay you a cool hundred. +If not, it’s my money - play or pay. Is it a match?”<br> +<br> +“Very good,” said my uncle, and, raising his hat, he led +the way into the grounds. As I followed, I saw the woman take +the reins, while the man looked after us, and squirted a jet of tobacco-juice +from between his teeth in coachman fashion.<br> +<br> +“That’s Sir John Lade,” said my uncle, “one +of the richest men and best whips in England. There isn’t +a professional on the road that can handle either his tongue or his +ribbons better; but his wife, Lady Letty, is his match with the one +or the other.”<br> +<br> +“It was dreadful to hear her,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Oh, it’s her eccentricity. We all have them; and +she amuses the Prince. Now, nephew, keep close at my elbow, and +have your eyes open and your mouth shut.”<br> +<br> +Two lines of magnificent red and gold footmen who guarded the door bowed +deeply as my uncle and I passed between them, he with his head in the +air and a manner as if he entered into his own, whilst I tried to look +assured, though my heart was beating thin and fast. Within there +was a high and large hall, ornamented with Eastern decorations, which +harmonized with the domes and minarets of the exterior. A number +of people were moving quietly about, forming into groups and whispering +to each other. One of these, a short, burly, red-faced man, full +of fuss and self-importance, came hurrying up to my uncle.<br> +<br> +“I have de goot news, Sir Charles,” said he, sinking his +voice as one who speaks of weighty measures. “<i>Es ist +vollendet </i>- dat is, I have it at last thoroughly done.”<br> +<br> +“Well, serve it hot,” said my uncle, coldly, “and +see that the sauces are a little better than when last I dined at Carlton +House.”<br> +<br> +“Ah, mine Gott, you tink I talk of de cuisine. It is de +affair of de Prince dat I speak of. Dat is one little <i>vol-au-vent +</i>dat is worth one hundred tousand pound. Ten per cent., and +double to be repaid when de Royal pappa die. <i>Alles ist fertig. +</i>Goldshmidt of de Hague have took it up, and de Dutch public has +subscribe de money.”<br> +<br> +“God help the Dutch public!” muttered my uncle, as the fat +little man bustled off with his news to some new-comer. “That’s +the Prince’s famous cook, nephew. He has not his equal in +England for a <i>filet sauté aux champignons</i>. He manages +his master’s money affairs.”<br> +<br> +“The cook!” I exclaimed, in bewilderment.<br> +<br> +“You look surprised, nephew.”<br> +<br> +“I should have thought that some respectable banking firm - ”<br> +<br> +My uncle inclined his lips to my ear.<br> +<br> +“No respectable house would touch them,” he whispered. +“Ah, Mellish, is the Prince within?”<br> +<br> +“In the private saloon, Sir Charles,” said the gentleman +addressed.<br> +<br> +“Any one with him?”<br> +<br> +“Sheridan and Francis. He said he expected you.”<br> +<br> +“Then we shall go through.”<br> +<br> +I followed him through the strangest succession of rooms, full of curious +barbaric splendour which impressed me as being very rich and wonderful, +though perhaps I should think differently now. Gold and scarlet +in arabesque designs gleamed upon the walls, with gilt dragons and monsters +writhing along cornices and out of corners. Look where I would, +on panel or ceiling, a score of mirrors flashed back the picture of +the tall, proud, white-faced man, and the youth who walked so demurely +at his elbow. Finally, a footman opened a door, and we found ourselves +in the Prince’s own private apartment.<br> +<br> +Two gentlemen were lounging in a very easy fashion upon luxurious fauteuils +at the further end of the room and a third stood between them, his thick, +well-formed legs somewhat apart and his hands clasped behind him. +The sun was shining in upon them through a side-window, and I can see +the three faces now - one in the dusk, one in the light, and one cut +across by the shadow. Of those at the sides, I recall the reddish +nose and dark, flashing eyes of the one, and the hard, austere face +of the other, with the high coat-collars and many-wreathed cravats. +These I took in at a glance, but it was upon the man in the centre that +my gaze was fixed, for this I knew must be the Prince of Wales.<br> +<br> +George was then in his forty-first year, and with the help of his tailor +and his hairdresser, he might have passed as somewhat less. The +sight of him put me at my ease, for he was a merry-looking man, handsome +too in a portly, full-blooded way, with laughing eyes and pouting, sensitive +lips. His nose was turned upwards, which increased the good-humoured +effect of his countenance at the expense of its dignity. His cheeks +were pale and sodden, like those of a man who lived too well and took +too little exercise. He was dressed in a single-breasted black +coat buttoned up, a pair of leather pantaloons stretched tightly across +his broad thighs, polished Hessian boots, and a huge white neckcloth.<br> +<br> +“Halloa, Tregellis!” he cried, in the cheeriest fashion, +as my uncle crossed the threshold, and then suddenly the smile faded +from his face, and his eyes gleamed with resentment. “What +the deuce is this?” he shouted, angrily.<br> +<br> +A thrill of fear passed through me as I thought that it was my appearance +which had produced this outburst. But his eyes were gazing past +us, and glancing round we saw that a man in a brown coat and scratch +wig had followed so closely at our heels, that the footmen had let him +pass under the impression that he was of our party. His face was +very red, and the folded blue paper which he carried in his hand shook +and crackled in his excitement.<br> +<br> +“Why, it’s Vuillamy, the furniture man,” cried the +Prince. “What, am I to be dunned in my own private room? +Where’s Mellish? Where’s Townshend? What the +deuce is Tom Tring doing?”<br> +<br> +“I wouldn’t have intruded, your Royal Highness, but I must +have the money - or even a thousand on account would do.”<br> +<br> +“Must have it, must you, Vuillamy? That’s a fine word +to use. I pay my debts in my own time, and I’m not to be +bullied. Turn him out, footman! Take him away!”<br> +<br> +“If I don’t get it by Monday, I shall be in your papa’s +Bench,” wailed the little man, and as the footman led him out +we could hear him, amidst shouts of laughter, still protesting that +he would wind up in “papa’s Bench.”<br> +<br> +“That’s the very place for a furniture man,” said +the man with the red nose.<br> +<br> +“It should be the longest bench in the world, Sherry,” answered +the Prince, “for a good many of his subjects will want seats on +it. Very glad to see you back, Tregellis, but you must really +be more careful what you bring in upon your skirts. It was only +yesterday that we had an infernal Dutchman here howling about some arrears +of interest and the deuce knows what. ‘My good fellow,’ +said I, ‘as long as the Commons starve me, I have to starve you,’ +and so the matter ended.”<br> +<br> +“I think, sir, that the Commons would respond now if the matter +were fairly put before them by Charlie Fox or myself,” said Sheridan.<br> +<br> +The Prince burst out against the Commons with an energy of hatred that +one would scarce expect from that chubby, good-humoured face.<br> +<br> +“Why, curse them!” he cried. “After all their +preaching and throwing my father’s model life, as they called +it, in my teeth, they had to pay <i>his </i>debts to the tune of nearly +a million, whilst I can’t get a hundred thousand out of them. +And look at all they’ve done for my brothers! York is Commander-in-Chief. +Clarence is Admiral. What am I? Colonel of a damned dragoon +regiment under the orders of my own younger brother. It’s +my mother that’s at the bottom of it all. She always tried +to hold me back. But what’s this you’ve brought, Tregellis, +eh?”<br> +<br> +My uncle put his hand on my sleeve and led me forward.<br> +<br> +“This is my sister’s son, sir; Rodney Stone by name,” +said he. “He is coming with me to London, and I thought +it right to begin by presenting him to your Royal Highness.”<br> +<br> +“Quite right! Quite right!” said the Prince, with +a good-natured smile, patting me in a friendly way upon the shoulder. +“Is your mother living?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir,” said I.<br> +<br> +“If you are a good son to her you will never go wrong. And, +mark my words, Mr. Rodney Stone, you should honour the King, love your +country, and uphold the glorious British Constitution.”<br> +<br> +When I thought of the energy with which he had just been cursing the +House of Commons, I could scarce keep from smiling, and I saw Sheridan +put his hand up to his lips.<br> +<br> +“You have only to do this, to show a regard for your word, and +to keep out of debt in order to insure a happy and respected life. +What is your father, Mr. Stone? Royal Navy! Well, it is +a glorious service. I have had a touch of it myself. Did +I ever tell you how we laid aboard the French sloop of war <i>Minerve +- </i>hey, Tregellis?”<br> +<br> +“No, sir,” said my uncle. Sheridan and Francis exchanged +glances behind the Prince’s back.<br> +<br> +“She was flying her tricolour out there within sight of my pavilion +windows. Never saw such monstrous impudence in my life! +It would take a man of less mettle than me to stand it. Out I +went in my little cock-boat - you know my sixty-ton yawl, Charlie? - +with two four-pounders on each side, and a six-pounder in the bows.”<br> +<br> +“Well, sir! Well, sir! And what then, sir?” +cried Francis, who appeared to be an irascible, rough-tongued man.<br> +<br> +“You will permit me to tell the story in my own way, Sir Philip,” +said the Prince, with dignity. “I was about to say that +our metal was so light that I give you my word, gentlemen, that I carried +my port broadside in one coat pocket, and my starboard in the other. +Up we came to the big Frenchman, took her fire, and scraped the paint +off her before we let drive. But it was no use. By George, +gentlemen, our balls just stuck in her timbers like stones in a mud +wall. She had her nettings up, but we scrambled aboard, and at +it we went hammer and anvil. It was a sharp twenty minutes, but +we beat her people down below, made the hatches fast on them, and towed +her into Seaham. Surely you were with us, Sherry?”<br> +<br> +“I was in London at the time,” said Sheridan, gravely.<br> +<br> +“You can vouch for it, Francis!”<br> +<br> +“I can vouch to having heard your Highness tell the story.”<br> +<br> +“It was a rough little bit of cutlass and pistol work. But, +for my own part, I like the rapier. It’s a gentleman’s +weapon. You heard of my bout with the Chevalier d’Eon? +I had him at my sword-point for forty minutes at Angelo’s. +He was one of the best blades in Europe, but I was a little too supple +in the wrist for him. ‘I thank God there was a button on +your Highness’s foil,’ said he, when we had finished our +breather. By the way, you’re a bit of a duellist yourself, +Tregellis. How often have you been out?”<br> +<br> +“I used to go when I needed exercise,” said my uncle, carelessly. +“But I have taken to tennis now instead. A painful incident +happened the last time that I was out, and it sickened me of it.”<br> +<br> +“You killed your man - ?”<br> +<br> +“No, no, sir, it was worse than that. I had a coat that +Weston has never equalled. To say that it fitted me is not to +express it. It <i>was </i>me - like the hide on a horse. +I’ve had sixty from him since, but he could never approach it. +The sit of the collar brought tears into my eyes, sir, when first I +saw it; and as to the waist - ”<br> +<br> +“But the duel, Tregellis!” cried the Prince.<br> +<br> +“Well, sir, I wore it at the duel, like the thoughtless fool that +I was. It was Major Hunter, of the Guards, with whom I had had +a little <i>tracasserie, </i>because I hinted that he should not come +into Brookes’s smelling of the stables. I fired first, and +missed. He fired, and I shrieked in despair. ‘He’s +hit! A surgeon! A surgeon!’ they cried. ‘A +tailor! A tailor!’ said I, for there was a double hole through +the tails of my masterpiece. No, it was past all repair. +You may laugh, sir, but I’ll never see the like of it again.”<br> +<br> +I had seated myself on a settee in the corner, upon the Prince’s +invitation, and very glad I was to remain quiet and unnoticed, listening +to the talk of these men. It was all in the same extravagant vein, +garnished with many senseless oaths; but I observed this difference, +that, whereas my uncle and Sheridan had something of humour in their +exaggeration, Francis tended always to ill-nature, and the Prince to +self-glorification. Finally, the conversation turned to music +- I am not sure that my uncle did not artfully bring it there, and the +Prince, hearing from him of my tastes, would have it that I should then +and there sit down at the wonderful little piano, all inlaid with mother-of-pearl, +which stood in the corner, and play him the accompaniment to his song. +It was called, as I remember, “The Briton Conquers but to Save,” +and he rolled it out in a very fair bass voice, the others joining in +the chorus, and clapping vigorously when he finished.<br> +<br> +“Bravo, Mr. Stone!” said he. “You have an excellent +touch; and I know what I am talking about when I speak of music. +Cramer, of the Opera, said only the other day that he had rather hand +his bâton to me than to any amateur in England. Halloa, +it’s Charlie Fox, by all that’s wonderful!”<br> +<br> +He had run forward with much warmth, and was shaking the hand of a singular-looking +person who had just entered the room. The new-comer was a stout, +square-built man, plainly and almost carelessly dressed, with an uncouth +manner and a rolling gait. His age might have been something over +fifty, and his swarthy, harshly-featured face was already deeply lined +either by his years or by his excesses. I have never seen a countenance +in which the angel and the devil were more obviously wedded. Above, +was the high, broad forehead of the philosopher, with keen, humorous +eyes looking out from under thick, strong brows. Below, was the +heavy jowl of the sensualist curving in a broad crease over his cravat. +That brow was the brow of the public Charles Fox, the thinker, the philanthropist, +the man who rallied and led the Liberal party during the twenty most +hazardous years of its existence. That jaw was the jaw of the +private Charles Fox, the gambler, the libertine, the drunkard. +Yet to his sins he never added the crowning one of hypocrisy. +His vices were as open as his virtues. In some quaint freak of +Nature, two spirits seemed to have been joined in one body, and the +same frame to contain the best and the worst man of his age.<br> +<br> +“I’ve run down from Chertsey, sir, just to shake you by +the hand, and to make sure that the Tories have not carried you off.”<br> +<br> +“Hang it, Charlie, you know that I sink or swim with my friends! +A Whig I started, and a Whig I shall remain.”<br> +<br> +I thought that I could read upon Fox’s dark face that he was by +no means so confident about the Prince’s principles.<br> +<br> +“Pitt has been at you, sir, I understand?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, confound him! I hate the sight of that sharp-pointed +snout of his, which he wants to be ever poking into my affairs. +He and Addington have been boggling about the debts again. Why, +look ye, Charlie, if Pitt held me in contempt he could not behave different.”<br> +<br> +I gathered from the smile which flitted over Sheridan’s expressive +face that this was exactly what Pitt did do. But straightway they +all plunged into politics, varied by the drinking of sweet maraschino, +which a footman brought round upon a salver. The King, the Queen, +the Lords, and the Commons were each in succession cursed by the Prince, +in spite of the excellent advice which he had given me about the British +Constitution.<br> +<br> +“Why, they allow me so little that I can’t look after my +own people. There are a dozen annuities to old servants and the +like, and it’s all I can do to scrape the money together to pay +them. However, my” - he pulled himself up and coughed in +a consequential way - “my financial agent has arranged for a loan, +repayable upon the King’s death. This liqueur isn’t +good for either of us, Charlie. We’re both getting monstrous +stout.”<br> +<br> +“I can’t get any exercise for the gout,” said Fox.<br> +<br> +“I am blooded fifty ounces a month, but the more I take the more +I make. You wouldn’t think, to look at us, Tregellis, that +we could do what we have done. We’ve had some days and nights +together, Charlie!”<br> +<br> +Fox smiled and shook his head.<br> +<br> +“You remember how we posted to Newmarket before the races. +We took a public coach, Tregellis, clapped the postillions into the +rumble, and jumped on to their places. Charlie rode the leader +and I the wheeler. One fellow wouldn’t let us through his +turnpike, and Charlie hopped off and had his coat off in a minute. +The fellow thought he had to do with a fighting man, and soon cleared +the way for us.”<br> +<br> +“By the way, sir, speaking of fighting men, I give a supper to +the Fancy at the Waggon and Horses on Friday next,” said my uncle. +“If you should chance to be in town, they would think it a great +honour if you should condescend to look in upon us.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve not seen a fight since I saw Tom Tyne, the tailor, +kill Earl fourteen years ago. I swore off then, and you know me +as a man of my word, Tregellis. Of course, I’ve been at +the ringside <i>incog. </i>many a time, but never as the Prince of Wales.”<br> +<br> +“We should be vastly honoured if you would come<i> incog. </i>to +our supper, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Well, well, Sherry, make a note of it. We’ll be at +Carlton House on Friday. The Prince can’t come, you know, +Tregellis, but you might reserve a chair for the Earl of Chester.”<br> +<br> +“Sir, we shall be proud to see the Earl of Chester there,” +said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“By the way, Tregellis,” said Fox, “there’s +some rumour about your having a sporting bet with Sir Lothian Hume. +What’s the truth of it?”<br> +<br> +“Only a small matter of a couple of thous to a thou, he giving +the odds. He has a fancy to this new Gloucester man, Crab Wilson, +and I’m to find a man to beat him. Anything under twenty +or over thirty-five, at or about thirteen stone.”<br> +<br> +“You take Charlie Fox’s advice, then,” cried the Prince. +“When it comes to handicapping a horse, playing a hand, matching +a cock, or picking a man, he has the best judgment in England. +Now, Charlie, whom have we upon the list who can beat Crab Wilson, of +Gloucester?”<br> +<br> +I was amazed at the interest and knowledge which all these great people +showed about the ring, for they not only had the deeds of the principal +men of the time - Belcher, Mendoza, Jackson, or Dutch Sam - at their +fingers’ ends, but there was no fighting man so obscure that they +did not know the details of his deeds and prospects. The old ones +and then the young were discussed - their weight, their gameness, their +hitting power, and their constitution. Who, as he saw Sheridan +and Fox eagerly arguing as to whether Caleb Baldwin, the Westminster +costermonger, could hold his own with Isaac Bittoon, the Jew, would +have guessed that the one was the deepest political philosopher in Europe, +and that the other would be remembered as the author of the wittiest +comedy and of the finest speech of his generation?<br> +<br> +The name of Champion Harrison came very early into the discussion, and +Fox, who had a high idea of Crab Wilson’s powers, was of opinion +that my uncle’s only chance lay in the veteran taking the field +again. “He may be slow on his pins, but he fights with his +head, and he hits like the kick of a horse. When he finished Black +Baruk the man flew across the outer ring as well as the inner, and fell +among the spectators. If he isn’t absolutely stale, Tregellis, +he is your best chance.”<br> +<br> +My uncle shrugged his shoulders.<br> +<br> +“If poor Avon were here we might do something with him, for he +was Harrison’s first patron, and the man was devoted to him. +But his wife is too strong for me. And now, sir, I must leave +you, for I have had the misfortune to-day to lose the best valet in +England, and I must make inquiry for him. I thank your Royal Highness +for your kindness in receiving my nephew in so gracious a fashion.”<br> +<br> +“Till Friday, then,” said the Prince, holding out his hand. +“I have to go up to town in any case, for there is a poor devil +of an East India Company’s officer who has written to me in his +distress. If I can raise a few hundreds, I shall see him and set +things right for him. Now, Mr. Stone, you have your life before +you, and I hope it will be one which your uncle may be proud of. +You will honour the King, and show respect for the Constitution, Mr. +Stone. And, hark ye, you will avoid debt, and bear in mind that +your honour is a sacred thing.”<br> +<br> +So I carried away a last impression of his sensual, good-humoured face, +his high cravat, and his broad leather thighs. Again we passed +the strange rooms, the gilded monsters, and the gorgeous footmen, and +it was with relief that I found myself out in the open air once more, +with the broad blue sea in front of us, and the fresh evening breeze +upon our faces.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VIII - THE BRIGHTON ROAD<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle and I were up betimes next morning, but he was much out of +temper, for no news had been heard of his valet Ambrose. He had +indeed become like one of those ants of which I have read, who are so +accustomed to be fed by smaller ants that when they are left to themselves +they die of hunger. It was only by the aid of a man whom the landlord +procured, and of Fox’s valet, who had been sent expressly across, +that his toilet was at last performed.<br> +<br> +“I must win this race, nephew,” said he, when he had finished +breakfast; “I can’t afford to be beat. Look out of +the window and see if the Lades are there.”<br> +<br> +“I see a red four-in-hand in the square, and there is a crowd +round it. Yes, I see the lady upon the box seat.”<br> +<br> +“Is our tandem out?”<br> +<br> +“It is at the door.”<br> +<br> +“Come, then, and you shall have such a drive as you never had +before.”<br> +<br> +He stood at the door pulling on his long brown driving-gauntlets and +giving his orders to the ostlers.<br> +<br> +“Every ounce will tell,” said he. “We’ll +leave that dinner-basket behind. And you can keep my dog for me, +Coppinger. You know him and understand him. Let him have +his warm milk and curaçoa the same as usual. Whoa, my darlings, +you’ll have your fill of it before you reach Westminster Bridge.”<br> +<br> +“Shall I put in the toilet-case?” asked the landlord. +I saw the struggle upon my uncle’s face, but he was true to his +principles.<br> +<br> +“Put it under the seat - the front seat,” said he. +“Nephew, you must keep your weight as far forward as possible. +Can you do anything on a yard of tin? Well, if you can’t, +we’ll leave the trumpet. Buckle that girth up, Thomas. +Have you greased the hubs, as I told you? Well, jump up, nephew, +and we’ll see them off.”<br> +<br> +Quite a crowd had gathered in the Old Square: men and women, dark-coated +tradesmen, bucks from the Prince’s Court, and officers from Hove, +all in a buzz of excitement; for Sir John Lade and my uncle were two +of the most famous whips of the time, and a match between them was a +thing to talk of for many a long day.<br> +<br> +“The Prince will be sorry to have missed the start,” said +my uncle. “He doesn’t show before midday. Ah, +Jack, good morning! Your servant, madam! It’s a fine +day for a little bit of waggoning.”<br> +<br> +As our tandem came alongside of the four-in-hand, with the two bonny +bay mares gleaming like shot-silk in the sunshine, a murmur of admiration +rose from the crowd. My uncle, in his fawn-coloured driving-coat, +with all his harness of the same tint, looked the ideal of a Corinthian +whip; while Sir John Lade, with his many-caped coat, his white hat, +and his rough, weather-beaten face, might have taken his seat with a +line of professionals upon any ale-house bench without any one being +able to pick him out as one of the wealthiest landowners in England. +It was an age of eccentricity, but he had carried his peculiarities +to a length which surprised even the out-and-outers by marrying the +sweetheart of a famous highwayman when the gallows had come between +her and her lover. She was perched by his side, looking very smart +in a flowered bonnet and grey travelling-dress, while in front of them +the four splendid coal-black horses, with a flickering touch of gold +upon their powerful, well-curved quarters, were pawing the dust in their +eagerness to be off.<br> +<br> +“It’s a hundred that you don’t see us before Westminster +with a quarter of an hour’s start,” said Sir John.<br> +<br> +“I’ll take you another hundred that we pass you,” +answered my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Very good. Time’s up. Good-bye!” +He gave a <i>tchk </i>of the tongue, shook his reins, saluted with his +whip; in true coachman’s style, and away he went, taking the curve +out of the square in a workmanlike fashion that fetched a cheer from +the crowd. We heard the dwindling roar of the wheels upon the +cobblestones until they died away in the distance.<br> +<br> +It seemed one of the longest quarters of an hour that I had ever known +before the first stroke of nine boomed from the parish clock. +For my part, I was fidgeting in my seat in my impatience, but my uncle’s +calm, pale face and large blue eyes were as tranquil and demure as those +of the most unconcerned spectator. He was keenly on the alert, +however, and it seemed to me that the stroke of the clock and the thong +of his whip fell together - not in a blow, but in a sharp snap over +the leader, which sent us flying with a jingle and a rattle upon our +fifty miles’ journey. I heard a roar from behind us, saw +the gliding lines of windows with staring faces and waving handkerchiefs, +and then we were off the stones and on to the good white road which +curved away in front of us, with the sweep of the green downs upon either +side.<br> +<br> +I had been provided with shillings that the turnpike-gate might not +stop us, but my uncle reined in the mares and took them at a very easy +trot up all the heavy stretch which ends in Clayton Hill. He let +them go then, and we flashed through Friar’s Oak and across St. +John’s Common without more than catching a glimpse of the yellow +cottage which contained all that I loved best. Never have I travelled +at such a pace, and never have I felt such a sense of exhilaration from +the rush of keen upland air upon our faces, and from the sight of those +two glorious creatures stretched to their utmost, with the roar of their +hoofs and the rattle of our wheels as the light curricle bounded and +swayed behind them.<br> +<br> +“It’s a long four miles uphill from here to Hand Cross,” +said my uncle, as we flew through Cuckfield. “I must ease +them a bit, for I cannot afford to break the hearts of my cattle. +They have the right blood in them, and they would gallop until they +dropped if I were brute enough to let them. Stand up on the seat, +nephew, and see if you can get a glimpse of them.”<br> +<br> +I stood up, steadying myself upon my uncle’s shoulder, but though +I could see for a mile, or perhaps a quarter more, there was not a sign +of the four-in-hand.<br> +<br> +“If he has sprung his cattle up all these hills they’ll +be spent ere they see Croydon,” said he.<br> +<br> +“They have four to two,” said I.<br> +<br> +“<i>J’en suis bien sûr</i>. Sir John’s +black strain makes a good, honest creature, but not fliers like these. +There lies Cuckfield Place, where the towers are, yonder. Get +your weight right forward on the splashboard now that we are going uphill, +nephew. Look at the action of that leader: did ever you see anything +more easy and more beautiful?”<br> +<br> +We were taking the hill at a quiet trot, but even so, we made the carrier, +walking in the shadow of his huge, broad-wheeled, canvas-covered waggon, +stare at us in amazement. Close to Hand Cross we passed the Royal +Brighton stage, which had left at half-past seven, dragging heavily +up the slope, and its passengers, toiling along through the dust behind, +gave us a cheer as we whirled by. At Hand Cross we caught a glimpse +of the old landlord, hurrying out with his gin and his gingerbread; +but the dip of the ground was downwards now, and away we flew as fast +as eight gallant hoofs could take us.<br> +<br> +“Do you drive, nephew?”<br> +<br> +“Very little, sir.”<br> +<br> +“There is no driving on the Brighton Road.”<br> +<br> +“How is that, sir?”<br> +<br> +“Too good a road, nephew. I have only to give them their +heads, and they will race me into Westminster. It wasn’t +always so. When I was a very young man one might learn to handle +his twenty yards of tape here as well as elsewhere. There’s +not much really good waggoning now south of Leicestershire. Show +me a man who can hit ’em and hold ’em on a Yorkshire dale-side, +and that’s the man who comes from the right school.”<br> +<br> +We had raced over Crawley Down and into the broad main street of Crawley +village, flying between two country waggons in a way which showed me +that even now a driver might do something on the road. With every +turn I peered ahead, looking for our opponents, but my uncle seemed +to concern himself very little about them, and occupied himself in giving +me advice, mixed up with so many phrases of the craft, that it was all +that I could do to follow him.<br> +<br> +“Keep a finger for each, or you will have your reins clubbed,” +said he. “As to the whip, the less fanning the better if +you have willing cattle; but when you want to put a little life into +a coach, see that you get your thong on to the one that needs it, and +don’t let it fly round after you’ve hit. I’ve +seen a driver warm up the off-side passenger on the roof behind him +every time he tried to cut his off-side wheeler. I believe that +is their dust over yonder.”<br> +<br> +A long stretch of road lay before us, barred with the shadows of wayside +trees. Through the green fields a lazy blue river was drawing +itself slowly along, passing under a bridge in front of us. Beyond +was a young fir plantation, and over its olive line there rose a white +whirl which drifted swiftly, like a cloud-scud on a breezy day.<br> +<br> +“Yes, yes, it’s they!” cried my uncle. “No +one else would travel as fast. Come, nephew, we’re half-way +when we cross the mole at Kimberham Bridge, and we’ve done it +in two hours and fourteen minutes. The Prince drove to Carlton +House with a three tandem in four hours and a half. The first +half is the worst half, and we might cut his time if all goes well. +We should make up between this and Reigate.”<br> +<br> +And we flew. The bay mares seemed to know what that white puff +in front of us signified, and they stretched themselves like greyhounds. +We passed a phaeton and pair London-bound, and we left it behind as +if it had been standing still. Trees, gates, cottages went dancing +by. We heard the folks shouting from the fields, under the impression +that we were a runaway. Faster and faster yet they raced, the +hoofs rattling like castanets, the yellow manes flying, the wheels buzzing, +and every joint and rivet creaking and groaning, while the curricle +swung and swayed until I found myself clutching to the side-rail. +My uncle eased them and glanced at his watch as we saw the grey tiles +and dingy red houses of Reigate in the hollow beneath us.<br> +<br> +“We did the last six well under twenty minutes,” said he. +“We’ve time in hand now, and a little water at the Red Lion +will do them no harm. Red four-in-hand passed, ostler?”<br> +<br> +“Just gone, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Going hard?”<br> +<br> +“Galloping full split, sir! Took the wheel off a butcher’s +cart at the corner of the High Street, and was out o’ sight before +the butcher’s boy could see what had hurt him.”<br> +<br> +<i>Z-z-z-z-ack</i>! went the long thong, and away we flew once more. +It was market day at Redhill, and the road was crowded with carts of +produce, droves of bullocks, and farmers’ gigs. It was a +sight to see how my uncle threaded his way amongst them all. Through +the market-place we dashed amidst the shouting of men, the screaming +of women, and the scuttling of poultry, and then we were out in the +country again, with the long, steep incline of the Redhill Road before +us. My uncle waved his whip in the air with a shrill view-halloa.<br> +<br> +There was the dust-cloud rolling up the hill in front of us, and through +it we had a shadowy peep of the backs of our opponents, with a flash +of brass-work and a gleam of scarlet.<br> +<br> +“There’s half the game won, nephew. Now we must pass +them. Hark forrard, my beauties! By George, if Kitty isn’t +foundered!”<br> +<br> +The leader had suddenly gone dead lame. In an instant we were +both out of the curricle and on our knees beside her. It was but +a stone, wedged between frog and shoe in the off fore-foot, but it was +a minute or two before we could wrench it out. When we had regained +our places the Lades were round the curve of the hill and out of sight.<br> +<br> +“Bad luck!” growled my uncle. “But they can’t +get away from us!” For the first time he touched the mares +up, for he had but cracked the whip over their heads before. “If +we catch them in the next few miles we can spare them for the rest of +the way.”<br> +<br> +They were beginning to show signs of exhaustion. Their breath +came quick and hoarse, and their beautiful coats were matted with moisture. +At the top of the hill, however, they settled down into their swing +once more.<br> +<br> +“Where on earth have they got to?” cried my uncle. +“Can you make them out on the road, nephew?”<br> +<br> +We could see a long white ribbon of it, all dotted with carts and waggons +coming from Croydon to Redhill, but there was no sign of the big red +four-in-hand.<br> +<br> +“There they are! Stole away! Stole away!” he +cried, wheeling the mares round into a side road which struck to the +right out of that which we had travelled. “There they are, +nephew! On the brow of the hill!”<br> +<br> +Sure enough, on the rise of a curve upon our right the four-in-hand +had appeared, the horses stretched to the utmost. Our mares laid +themselves out gallantly, and the distance between us began slowly to +decrease. I found that I could see the black band upon Sir John’s +white hat, then that I could count the folds of his cape; finally, that +I could see the pretty features of his wife as she looked back at us.<br> +<br> +“We’re on the side road to Godstone and Warlingham,” +said my uncle. “I suppose he thought that he could make +better time by getting out of the way of the market carts. But +we’ve got the deuce of a hill to come down. You’ll +see some fun, nephew, or I am mistaken.”<br> +<br> +As he spoke I suddenly saw the wheels of the four-in-hand disappear, +then the body of it, and then the two figures upon the box, as suddenly +and abruptly as if it had bumped down the first three steps of some +gigantic stairs. An instant later we had reached the same spot, +and there was the road beneath us, steep and narrow, winding in long +curves into the valley. The four-in-hand was swishing down it +as hard as the horses could gallop.<br> +<br> +“Thought so!” cried my uncle. “If he doesn’t +brake, why should I? Now, my darlings, one good spurt, and we’ll +show them the colour of our tailboard.”<br> +<br> +We shot over the brow and flew madly down the hill with the great red +coach roaring and thundering before us. Already we were in her +dust, so that we could see nothing but the dim scarlet blur in the heart +of it, rocking and rolling, with its outline hardening at every stride. +We could hear the crack of the whip in front of us, and the shrill voice +of Lady Lade as she screamed to the horses. My uncle was very +quiet, but when I glanced up at him I saw that his lips were set and +his eyes shining, with just a little flush upon each pale cheek. +There was no need to urge on the mares, for they were already flying +at a pace which could neither be stopped nor controlled. Our leader’s +head came abreast of the off hind wheel, then of the off front one - +then for a hundred yards we did not gain an inch, and then with a spurt +the bay leader was neck to neck with the black wheeler, and our fore +wheel within an inch of their hind one.<br> +<br> +“Dusty work!” said my uncle, quietly.<br> +<br> +“Fan ’em, Jack! Fan ’em!” shrieked the +lady.<br> +<br> +He sprang up and lashed at his horses.<br> +<br> +“Look out, Tregellis!” he shouted. “There’s +a damnation spill coming for somebody.”<br> +<br> +We had got fairly abreast of them now, the rumps of the horses exactly +a-line and the fore wheels whizzing together. There was not six +inches to spare in the breadth of the road, and every instant I expected +to feel the jar of a locking wheel. But now, as we came out from +the dust, we could see what was ahead, and my uncle whistled between +his teeth at the sight.<br> +<br> +Two hundred yards or so in front of us there was a bridge, with wooden +posts and rails upon either side. The road narrowed down at the +point, so that it was obvious that the two carriages abreast could not +possibly get over. One must give way to the other. Already +our wheels were abreast of their wheelers.<br> +<br> +“I lead!” shouted my uncle. “You must pull them, +Lade!”<br> +<br> +“Not I!” he roared.<br> +<br> +“No, by George!” shrieked her ladyship. “Fan +’em, Jack; keep on fanning ’em!”<br> +<br> +It seemed to me that we were all going to eternity together. But +my uncle did the only thing that could have saved us. By a desperate +effort we might just clear the coach before reaching the mouth of the +bridge. He sprang up, and lashed right and left at the mares, +who, maddened by the unaccustomed pain, hurled themselves on in a frenzy. +Down we thundered together, all shouting, I believe, at the top of our +voices in the madness of the moment; but still we were drawing steadily +away, and we were almost clear of the leaders when we flew on to the +bridge. I glanced back at the coach, and I saw Lady Lade, with +her savage little white teeth clenched together, throw herself forward +and tug with both hands at the off-side reins.<br> +<br> +“Jam them, Jack!” she cried. “Jam the - before +they can pass.”<br> +<br> +Had she done it an instant sooner we should have crashed against the +wood-work, carried it away, and been hurled into the deep gully below. +As it was, it was not the powerful haunch of the black leader which +caught our wheel, but the forequarter, which had not weight enough to +turn us from our course. I saw a red wet seam gape suddenly through +the black hair, and next instant we were flying alone down the road, +whilst the four-in-hand had halted, and Sir John and his lady were down +in the road together tending to the wounded horse.<br> +<br> +“Easy now, my beauties!” cried my uncle, settling down into +his seat again, and looking back over his shoulder. “I could +not have believed that Sir John Lade would have been guilty of such +a trick as pulling that leader across. I do not permit a <i>mauvaise +plaisanterie </i>of that sort. He shall hear from me to-night.”<br> +<br> +“It was the lady,” said I.<br> +<br> +My uncle’s brow cleared, and he began to laugh.<br> +<br> +“It was little Letty, was it?” said he. “I might +have known it. There’s a touch of the late lamented Sixteen-string +Jack about the trick. Well, it is only messages of another kind +that I send to a lady, so we’ll just drive on our way, nephew, +and thank our stars that we bring whole bones over the Thames.”<br> +<br> +We stopped at the Greyhound, at Croydon, where the two good little mares +were sponged and petted and fed, after which, at an easier pace, we +made our way through Norbury and Streatham. At last the fields +grew fewer and the walls longer. The outlying villas closed up +thicker and thicker, until their shoulders met, and we were driving +between a double line of houses with garish shops at the corners, and +such a stream of traffic as I had never seen, roaring down the centre. +Then suddenly we were on a broad bridge with a dark coffee-brown river +flowing sulkily beneath it, and bluff-bowed barges drifting down upon +its bosom. To right and left stretched a broken, irregular line +of many-coloured houses winding along either bank as far as I could +see.<br> +<br> +“That’s the House of Parliament, nephew,” said my +uncle, pointing with his whip, “and the black towers are Westminster +Abbey. How do, your Grace? How do? That’s the +Duke of Norfolk - the stout man in blue upon the swish-tailed mare. +Now we are in Whitehall. There’s the Treasury on the left, +and the Horse Guards, and the Admiralty, where the stone dolphins are +carved above the gate.”<br> +<br> +I had the idea, which a country-bred lad brings up with him, that London +was merely a wilderness of houses, but I was astonished now to see the +green slopes and the lovely spring trees showing between.<br> +<br> +“Yes, those are the Privy Gardens,” said my uncle, “and +there is the window out of which Charles took his last step on to the +scaffold. You wouldn’t think the mares had come fifty miles, +would you? See how <i>les petites cheries </i>step out for the +credit of their master. Look at the barouche, with the sharp-featured +man peeping out of the window. That’s Pitt, going down to +the House. We are coming into Pall Mall now, and this great building +on the left is Carlton House, the Prince’s Palace. There’s +St. James’s, the big, dingy place with the clock, and the two +red-coated sentries before it. And here’s the famous street +of the same name, nephew, which is the very centre of the world, and +here’s Jermyn Street opening out of it, and finally, here’s +my own little box, and we are well under the five hours from Brighton +Old Square.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IX - WATIER’S<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle’s house in Jermyn Street was quite a small one - five +rooms and an attic. “A man-cook and a cottage,” he +said, “are all that a wise man requires.” On the other +hand, it was furnished with the neatness and taste which belonged to +his character, so that his most luxurious friends found something in +the tiny rooms which made them discontented with their own sumptuous +mansions. Even the attic, which had been converted into my bedroom, +was the most perfect little bijou attic that could possibly be imagined. +Beautiful and valuable knick-knacks filled every corner of every apartment, +and the house had become a perfect miniature museum which would have +delighted a virtuoso. My uncle explained the presence of all these +pretty things with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave of his hands. +“They are <i>des petites cadeaux</i>,” said he, “but +it would be an indiscretion for me to say more.”<br> +<br> +We found a note from Ambrose waiting for us which increased rather than +explained the mystery of his disappearance.<br> +<br> +“My dear Sir Charles Tregellis,” it ran, “it will +ever be a subject of regret to me that the force of circumstances should +have compelled me to leave your service in so abrupt a fashion, but +something occurred during our journey from Friar’s Oak to Brighton +which left me without any possible alternative. I trust, however, +that my absence may prove to be but a temporary one. The isinglass +recipe for the shirt-fronts is in the strong-box at Drummond’s +Bank. - Yours obediently, AMBROSE.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I suppose I must fill his place as best I can,” said +my uncle, moodily. “But how on earth could something have +occurred to make him leave me at a time when we were going full-trot +down hill in my curricle? I shall never find his match again either +for chocolate or cravats. <i>Je suis desolé</i>! +But now, nephew, we must send to Weston and have you fitted up. +It is not for a gentleman to go to a shop, but for the shop to come +to the gentleman. Until you have your clothes you must remain +<i>en retraite</i>.”<br> +<br> +The measuring was a most solemn and serious function, though it was +nothing to the trying-on two days later, when my uncle stood by in an +agony of apprehension as each garment was adjusted, he and Weston arguing +over every seam and lapel and skirt until I was dizzy with turning round +in front of them. Then, just as I had hoped that all was settled, +in came young Mr. Brummell, who promised to be an even greater exquisite +than my uncle, and the whole matter had to be thrashed out between them. +He was a good-sized man, this Brummell, with a long, fair face, light +brown hair, and slight sandy side-whiskers. His manner was languid, +his voice drawling, and while he eclipsed my uncle in the extravagance +of his speech, he had not the air of manliness and decision which underlay +all my kinsman’s affectations.<br> +<br> +“Why, George,” cried my uncle, “I thought you were +with your regiment.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve sent in my papers,” drawled the other.<br> +<br> +“I thought it would come to that.”<br> +<br> +“Yes. The Tenth was ordered to Manchester, and they could +hardly expect me to go to a place like that. Besides, I found +the major monstrous rude.”<br> +<br> +“How was that?”<br> +<br> +“He expected me to know about his absurd drill, Tregellis, and +I had other things to think of, as you may suppose. I had no difficulty +in taking my right place on parade, for there was a trooper with a red +nose on a flea-bitten grey, and I had observed that my post was always +immediately in front of him. This saved a great deal of trouble. +The other day, however, when I came on parade, I galloped up one line +and down the other, but the deuce a glimpse could I get of that long +nose of his! Then, just as I was at my wits’ end, I caught +sight of him, alone at one side; so I formed up in front. It seems +he had been put there to keep the ground, and the major so far forgot +himself as to say that I knew nothing of my duties.”<br> +<br> +My uncle laughed, and Brummell looked me up and down with his large, +intolerant eyes.<br> +<br> +“These will do very passably,” said he. “Buff +and blue are always very gentlemanlike. But a sprigged waistcoat +would have been better.”<br> +<br> +“I think not,” said my uncle, warmly.<br> +<br> +“My dear Tregellis, you are infallible upon a cravat, but you +must allow me the right of my own judgment upon vests. I like +it vastly as it stands, but a touch of red sprig would give it the finish +that it needs.”<br> +<br> +They argued with many examples and analogies for a good ten minutes, +revolving round me at the same time with their heads on one side and +their glasses to their eyes. It was a relief to me when they at +last agreed upon a compromise.<br> +<br> +“You must not let anything I have said shake your faith in Sir +Charles’s judgment, Mr. Stone,” said Brummell, very earnestly.<br> +<br> +I assured him that I should not.<br> +<br> +“If you were my nephew, I should expect you to follow my taste. +But you will cut a very good figure as it is. I had a young cousin +who came up to town last year with a recommendation to my care. +But he would take no advice. At the end of the second week I met +him coming down St. James’s Street in a snuff-coloured coat cut +by a country tailor. He bowed to me. Of course I knew what +was due to myself. I looked all round him, and there was an end +to his career in town. You are from the country, Mr. Stone?”<br> +<br> +“From Sussex, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Sussex! Why, that is where I send my washing to. +There is an excellent clear-starcher living near Hayward’s Heath. +I send my shirts two at a time, for if you send more it excites the +woman and diverts her attention. I cannot abide anything but country +washing. But I should be vastly sorry to have to live there. +What can a man find to do?”<br> +<br> +“You don’t hunt, George?”<br> +<br> +“When I do, it’s a woman. But surely you don’t +go to hounds, Charles?”<br> +<br> +“I was out with the Belvoir last winter.”<br> +<br> +“The Belvoir! Did you hear how I smoked Rutland? The +story has been in the clubs this month past. I bet him that my +bag would weigh more than his. He got three and a half brace, +but I shot his liver-coloured pointer, so he had to pay. But as +to hunting, what amusement can there be in flying about among a crowd +of greasy, galloping farmers? Every man to his own taste, but +Brookes’s window by day and a snug corner of the macao table at +Watier’s by night, give me all I want for mind and body. +You heard how I plucked Montague the brewer!”<br> +<br> +“I have been out of town.”<br> +<br> +“I had eight thousand from him at a sitting. ‘I shall +drink your beer in future, Mr. Brewer,’ said I. ‘Every +blackguard in London does,’ said he. It was monstrous impolite +of him, but some people cannot lose with grace. Well, I am going +down to Clarges Street to pay Jew King a little of my interest. +Are you bound that way? Well, good-bye, then! I’ll +see you and your young friend at the club or in the Mall, no doubt,” +and he sauntered off upon his way.<br> +<br> +“That young man is destined to take my place,” said my uncle, +gravely, when Brummell had departed. “He is quite young +and of no descent, but he has made his way by his cool effrontery, his +natural taste, and his extravagance of speech. There is no man +who can be impolite in so polished a fashion. He has a half-smile, +and a way of raising his eyebrows, for which he will be shot one of +these mornings. Already his opinion is quoted in the clubs as +a rival to my own. Well, every man has his day, and when I am +convinced that mine is past, St. James’s Street shall know me +no more, for it is not in my nature to be second to any man. But +now, nephew, in that buff and blue suit you may pass anywhere; so, if +you please, we will step into my <i>vis-à-vis</i>, and I will +show you something of the town.”<br> +<br> +How can I describe all that we saw and all that we did upon that lovely +spring day? To me it was as if I had been wafted to a fairy world, +and my uncle might have been some benevolent enchanter in a high-collared, +long-tailed coat, who was guiding me about in it. He showed me +the West-end streets, with the bright carriages and the gaily dressed +ladies and sombre-clad men, all crossing and hurrying and recrossing +like an ants’ nest when you turn it over with a stick. Never +had I formed a conception of such endless banks of houses, and such +a ceaseless stream of life flowing between. Then we passed down +the Strand, where the crowd was thicker than ever, and even penetrated +beyond Temple Bar and into the City, though my uncle begged me not to +mention it, for he would not wish it to be generally known. There +I saw the Exchange and the Bank and Lloyd’s Coffee House, with +the brown-coated, sharp-faced merchants and the hurrying clerks, the +huge horses and the busy draymen. It was a very different world +this from that which we had left in the West - a world of energy and +of strength, where there was no place for the listless and the idle. +Young as I was, I knew that it was here, in the forest of merchant shipping, +in the bales which swung up to the warehouse windows, in the loaded +waggons which roared over the cobblestones, that the power of Britain +lay. Here, in the City of London, was the taproot from which Empire +and wealth and so many other fine leaves had sprouted. Fashion +and speech and manners may change, but the spirit of enterprise within +that square mile or two of land must not change, for when it withers +all that has grown from it must wither also.<br> +<br> +We lunched at Stephen’s, the fashionable inn in Bond Street, where +I saw a line of tilburys and saddle-horses, which stretched from the +door to the further end of the street. And thence we went to the +Mail in St. James’s Park, and thence to Brookes’s, the great +Whig club, and thence again to Watier’s, where the men of fashion +used to gamble. Everywhere I met the same sort of men, with their +stiff figures and small waists, all showing the utmost deference to +my uncle, and for his sake an easy tolerance of me. The talk was +always such as I had already heard at the Pavilion: talk of politics, +talk of the King’s health, talk of the Prince’s extravagance, +of the expected renewal of war, of horse-racing, and of the ring. +I saw, too, that eccentricity was, as my uncle had told me, the fashion; +and if the folk upon the Continent look upon us even to this day as +being a nation of lunatics, it is no doubt a tradition handed down from +the time when the only travellers whom they were likely to see were +drawn from the class which I was now meeting.<br> +<br> +It was an age of heroism and of folly. On the one hand soldiers, +sailors, and statesmen of the quality of Pitt, Nelson, and afterwards +Wellington, had been forced to the front by the imminent menace of Buonaparte. +We were great in arms, and were soon also to be great in literature, +for Scott and Byron were in their day the strongest forces in Europe. +On the other hand, a touch of madness, real or assumed, was a passport +through doors which were closed to wisdom and to virtue. The man +who could enter a drawing-room walking upon his hands, the man who had +filed his teeth that he might whistle like a coachman, the man who always +spoke his thoughts aloud and so kept his guests in a quiver of apprehension, +these were the people who found it easy to come to the front in London +society. Nor could the heroism and the folly be kept apart, for +there were few who could quite escape the contagion of the times. +In an age when the Premier was a heavy drinker, the Leader of the Opposition +a libertine, and the Prince of Wales a combination of the two, it was +hard to know where to look for a man whose private and public characters +were equally lofty. At the same time, with all its faults it was +a <i>strong </i>age, and you will be fortunate if in your time the country +produces five such names as Pitt, Fox, Scott, Nelson, and Wellington.<br> +<br> +It was in Watier’s that night, seated by my uncle on one of the +red velvet settees at the side of the room, that I had pointed out to +me some of those singular characters whose fame and eccentricities are +even now not wholly forgotten in the world. The long, many-pillared +room, with its mirrors and chandeliers, was crowded with full-blooded, +loud-voiced men-about-town, all in the same dark evening dress with +white silk stockings, cambric shirt-fronts, and little, flat chapeau-bras +under their arms.<br> +<br> +“The acid-faced old gentleman with the thin legs is the Marquis +of Queensberry,” said my uncle. “His chaise was driven +nineteen miles in an hour in a match against the Count Taafe, and he +sent a message fifty miles in thirty minutes by throwing it from hand +to hand in a cricket-ball. The man he is talking to is Sir Charles +Bunbury, of the Jockey Club, who had the Prince warned off the Heath +at Newmarket on account of the in-and-out riding of Sam Chifney, his +jockey. There’s Captain Barclay going up to them now. +He knows more about training than any man alive, and he has walked ninety +miles in twenty-one hours. You have only to look at his calves +to see that Nature built him for it. There’s another walker +there, the man with a flowered vest standing near the fireplace. +That is Buck Whalley, who walked to Jerusalem in a long blue coat, top-boots, +and buckskins.”<br> +<br> +“Why did he do that, sir?” I asked, in astonishment.<br> +<br> +My uncle shrugged his shoulders.<br> +<br> +“It was his humour,” said he. “He walked into +society through it, and that was better worth reaching than Jerusalem. +There’s Lord Petersham, the man with the beaky nose. He +always rises at six in the evening, and he has laid down the finest +cellar of snuff in Europe. It was he who ordered his valet to +put half a dozen of sherry by his bed and call him the day after to-morrow. +He’s talking to Lord Panmure, who can take his six bottles of +claret and argue with a bishop after it. The lean man with the +weak knees is General Scott who lives upon toast and water and has won +£200,000 at whist. He is talking to young Lord Blandford +who gave £1800 for a Boccaccio the other day. Evening, Dudley!”<br> +<br> +“Evening, Tregellis!” An elderly, vacant-looking man +had stopped before us and was looking me up and down.<br> +<br> +“Some young cub Charlie Tregellis has caught in the country,” +he murmured. “He doesn’t look as if he would be much +credit to him. Been out of town, Tregellis?”<br> +<br> +“For a few days.”<br> +<br> +“Hem!” said the man, transferring his sleepy gaze to my +uncle. “He’s looking pretty bad. He’ll +be going into the country feet foremost some of these days if he doesn’t +pull up!” He nodded, and passed on.<br> +<br> +“You mustn’t look so mortified, nephew,” said my uncle, +smiling. “That’s old Lord Dudley, and he has a trick +of thinking aloud. People used to be offended, but they take no +notice of him now. It was only last week, when he was dining at +Lord Elgin’s, that he apologized to the company for the shocking +bad cooking. He thought he was at his own table, you see. +It gives him a place of his own in society. That’s Lord +Harewood he has fastened on to now. Harewood’s peculiarity +is to mimic the Prince in everything. One day the Prince hid his +queue behind the collar of his coat, so Harewood cut his off, thinking +that they were going out of fashion. Here’s Lumley, the +ugly man. ‘<i>L’homme laid</i>’ they called +him in Paris. The other one is Lord Foley - they call him No. +11, on account of his thin legs.”<br> +<br> +“There is Mr. Brummell, sir,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Yes, he’ll come to us presently. That young man has +certainly a future before him. Do you observe the way in which +he looks round the room from under his drooping eyelids, as though it +were a condescension that he should have entered it? Small conceits +are intolerable, but when they are pushed to the uttermost they become +respectable. How do, George?”<br> +<br> +“Have you heard about Vereker Merton?” asked Brummell, strolling +up with one or two other exquisites at his heels. “He has +run away with his father’s woman-cook, and actually married her.”<br> +<br> +“What did Lord Merton do?”<br> +<br> +“He congratulated him warmly, and confessed that he had always +underrated his intelligence. He is to live with the young couple, +and make a handsome allowance on condition that the bride sticks to +her old duties. By the way, there was a rumour that you were about +to marry, Tregellis.”<br> +<br> +“I think not,” answered my uncle. “It would +be a mistake to overwhelm one by attentions which are a pleasure to +many.”<br> +<br> +“My view, exactly, and very neatly expressed,” cried Brummell. +“Is it fair to break a dozen hearts in order to intoxicate one +with rapture? I’m off to the Continent next week.”<br> +<br> +“Bailiffs?” asked one of his companions.<br> +<br> +“Too bad, Pierrepoint. No, no; it is pleasure and instruction +combined. Besides, it is necessary to go to Paris for your little +things, and if there is a chance of the war breaking out again, it would +be well to lay in a supply.”<br> +<br> +“Quite right,” said my uncle, who seemed to have made up +his mind to outdo Brummell in extravagance. “I used to get +my sulphur-coloured gloves from the Palais Royal. When the war +broke out in ‘93 I was cut off from them for nine years. +Had it not been for a lugger which I specially hired to smuggle them, +I might have been reduced to English tan.”<br> +<br> +“The English are excellent at a flat-iron or a kitchen poker, +but anything more delicate is beyond them.”<br> +<br> +“Our tailors are good,” cried my uncle, “but our stuffs +lack taste and variety. The war has made us more <i>rococo </i>than +ever. It has cut us off from travel, and there is nothing to match +travel for expanding the mind. Last year, for example, I came +upon some new waist-coating in the Square of San Marco, at Venice. +It was yellow, with the prettiest little twill of pink running through +it. How could I have seen it had I not travelled? I brought +it back with me, and for a time it was all the rage.”<br> +<br> +“The Prince took it up.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, he usually follows my lead. We dressed so alike last +year that we were frequently mistaken for each other. It tells +against me, but so it was. He often complains that things do not +look as well upon him as upon me, but how can I make the obvious reply? +By the way, George, I did not see you at the Marchioness of Dover’s +ball.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, I was there, and lingered for a quarter of an hour or so. +I am surprised that you did not see me. I did not go past the +doorway, however, for undue preference gives rise to jealousy.”<br> +<br> +“I went early,” said my uncle, “for I had heard that +there were to be some tolerable <i>débutantes</i>. It always +pleases me vastly when I am able to pass a compliment to any of them. +It has happened, but not often, for I keep to my own standard.”<br> +<br> +So they talked, these singular men, and I, looking from one to the other, +could not imagine how they could help bursting out a-laughing in each +other’s faces. But, on the contrary, their conversation +was very grave, and filled out with many little bows, and opening and +shutting of snuff-boxes, and flickings of laced handkerchiefs. +Quite a crowd had gathered silently around, and I could see that the +talk had been regarded as a contest between two men who were looked +upon as rival arbiters of fashion. It was finished by the Marquis +of Queensberry passing his arm through Brummell’s and leading +him off, while my uncle threw out his laced cambric shirt-front and +shot his ruffles as if he were well satisfied with his share in the +encounter. It is seven-and-forty years since I looked upon that +circle of dandies, and where, now, are their dainty little hats, their +wonderful waistcoats, and their boots, in which one could arrange one’s +cravat? They lived strange lives, these men, and they died strange +deaths - some by their own hands, some as beggars, some in a debtor’s +gaol, some, like the most brilliant of them all, in a madhouse in a +foreign land.<br> +<br> +“There is the card-room, Rodney,” said my uncle, as we passed +an open door on our way out. Glancing in, I saw a line of little +green baize tables with small groups of men sitting round, while at +one side was a longer one, from which there came a continuous murmur +of voices. “You may lose what you like in there, save only +your nerve or your temper,” my uncle continued. “Ah, +Sir Lothian, I trust that the luck was with you?”<br> +<br> +A tall, thin man, with a hard, austere face, had stepped out of the +open doorway. His heavily thatched eyebrows covered quick, furtive +grey eyes, and his gaunt features were hollowed at the cheek and temple +like water-grooved flint. He was dressed entirely in black, and +I noticed that his shoulders swayed a little as if he had been drinking.<br> +<br> +“Lost like the deuce,” he snapped.<br> +<br> +“Dice?”<br> +<br> +“No, whist.”<br> +<br> +“You couldn’t get very hard hit over that.”<br> +<br> +“Couldn’t you?” he snarled. “Play a hundred +a trick and a thousand on the rub, losing steadily for five hours, and +see what you think of it.”<br> +<br> +My uncle was evidently struck by the haggard look upon the other’s +face.<br> +<br> +“I hope it’s not very bad,” he said.<br> +<br> +“Bad enough. It won’t bear talking about. By +the way, Tregellis, have you got your man for this fight yet?”<br> +<br> +“No.”<br> +<br> +“You seem to be hanging in the wind a long time. It’s +play or pay, you know. I shall claim forfeit if you don’t +come to scratch.”<br> +<br> +“If you will name your day I shall produce my man, Sir Lothian,” +said my uncle, coldly.<br> +<br> +“This day four weeks, if you like.”<br> +<br> +“Very good. The 18th of May.”<br> +<br> +“I hope to have changed my name by then!”<br> +<br> +“How is that?” asked my uncle, in surprise.<br> +<br> +“It is just possible that I may be Lord Avon.”<br> +<br> +“What, you have had some news?” cried my uncle, and I noticed +a tremor in his voice.<br> +<br> +“I’ve had my agent over at Monte Video, and he believes +he has proof that Avon died there. Anyhow, it is absurd to suppose +that because a murderer chooses to fly from justice - ”<br> +<br> +“I won’t have you use that word, Sir Lothian,” cried +my uncle, sharply.<br> +<br> +“You were there as I was. You know that he was a murderer.”<br> +<br> +“I tell you that you shall not say so.”<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian’s fierce little grey eyes had to lower themselves +before the imperious anger which shone in my uncle’s.<br> +<br> +“Well, to let that point pass, it is monstrous to suppose that +the title and the estates can remain hung up in this way for ever. +I’m the heir, Tregellis, and I’m going to have my rights.”<br> +<br> +“I am, as you are aware, Lord Avon’s dearest friend,” +said my uncle, sternly. “His disappearance has not affected +my love for him, and until his fate is finally ascertained, I shall +exert myself to see that <i>his </i>rights also are respected.”<br> +<br> +“His rights would be a long drop and a cracked spine,” Sir +Lothian answered, and then, changing his manner suddenly, he laid his +hand upon my uncle’s sleeve.<br> +<br> +“Come, come, Tregellis, I was his friend as well as you,” +said he. “But we cannot alter the facts, and it is rather +late in the day for us to fall out over them. Your invitation +holds good for Friday night?”<br> +<br> +“Certainly.”<br> +<br> +“I shall bring Crab Wilson with me, and finally arrange the conditions +of our little wager.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, Sir Lothian: I shall hope to see you.” +They bowed, and my uncle stood a little time looking<i> </i>after him +as he made his way amidst the crowd.<br> +<br> +“A good sportsman, nephew,” said he. “A bold +rider, the best pistol-shot in England, but . . . a dangerous man!”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER X - THE MEN OF THE RING<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +It was at the end of my first week in London that my uncle gave a supper +to the fancy, as was usual for gentlemen of that time if they wished +to figure before the public as Corinthians and patrons of sport. +He had invited not only the chief fighting-men of the day, but also +those men of fashion who were most interested in the ring: Mr. Fletcher +Reid, Lord Say and Sele, Sir Lothian Hume, Sir John Lade, Colonel Montgomery, +Sir Thomas Apreece, the Hon. Berkeley Craven, and many more. The +rumour that the Prince was to be present had already spread through +the clubs, and invitations were eagerly sought after.<br> +<br> +The Waggon and Horses was a well-known sporting house, with an old prize-fighter +for landlord. And the arrangements were as primitive as the most +Bohemian could wish. It was one of the many curious fashions which +have now died out, that men who were <i>blasé </i>from luxury +and high living seemed to find a fresh piquancy in life by descending +to the lowest resorts, so that the night-houses and gambling-dens in +Covent Garden or the Haymarket often gathered illustrious company under +their smoke-blackened ceilings. It was a change for them to turn +their backs upon the cooking of Weltjie and of Ude, or the chambertin +of old Q., and to dine upon a porter-house steak washed down by a pint +of ale from a pewter pot.<br> +<br> +A rough crowd had assembled in the street to see the fighting-men go +in, and my uncle warned me to look to my pockets as we pushed our way +through it. Within was a large room with faded red curtains, a +sanded floor, and walls which were covered with prints of pugilists +and race-horses. Brown liquor-stained tables were dotted about +in it, and round one of these half a dozen formidable-looking men were +seated, while one, the roughest of all, was perched upon the table itself, +swinging his legs to and fro. A tray of small glasses and pewter +mugs stood beside them.<br> +<br> +“The boys were thirsty, sir, so I brought up some ale and some +liptrap,” whispered the landlord; “I thought you would have +no objection, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Quite right, Bob! How are you all? How are you, Maddox? +How are you, Baldwin? Ah, Belcher, I am very glad to see you.”<br> +<br> +The fighting-men rose and took their hats off, except the fellow on +the table, who continued to swing his legs and to look my uncle very +coolly in the face.<br> +<br> +“How are you, Berks?”<br> +<br> +“Pretty tidy. ’Ow are you?”<br> +<br> +“Say ‘sir’ when you speak to a genelman,” said +Belcher, and with a sudden tilt of the table he sent Berks flying almost +into my uncle’s arms.<br> +<br> +“See now, Jem, none o’ that!” said Berks, sulkily.<br> +<br> +“I’ll learn you manners, Joe, which is more than ever your +father did. You’re not drinkin’ black-jack in a boozin’ +ken, but you are meetin’ noble, slap-up Corinthians, and it’s +for you to behave as such.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve always been reckoned a genelman-like sort of man,” +said Berks, thickly, “but if so be as I’ve said or done +what I ’adn’t ought to - ”<br> +<br> +“There, there, Berks, that’s all right!” cried my +uncle, only too anxious to smooth things over and to prevent a quarrel +at the outset of the evening. “Here are some more of our +friends. How are you, Apreece? How are you, Colonel? +Well, Jackson, you are looking vastly better. Good evening, Lade. +I trust Lady Lade was none the worse for our pleasant drive. Ah, +Mendoza, you look fit enough to throw your hat over the ropes this instant. +Sir Lothian, I am glad to see you. You will find some old friends +here.”<br> +<br> +Amid the stream of Corinthians and fighting-men who were thronging into +the room I had caught a glimpse of the sturdy figure and broad, good-humoured +face of Champion Harrison. The sight of him was like a whiff of +South Down air coming into that low-roofed, oil-smelling room, and I +ran forward to shake him by the hand.<br> +<br> +“Why, Master Rodney - or I should say Mr. Stone, I suppose - you’ve +changed out of all knowledge. I can’t hardly believe that +it was really you that used to come down to blow the bellows when Boy +Jim and I were at the anvil. Well, you are fine, to be sure!”<br> +<br> +“What’s the news of Friar’s Oak?” I asked eagerly.<br> +<br> +“Your father was down to chat with me, Master Rodney, and he tells +me that the war is going to break out again, and that he hopes to see +you here in London before many days are past; for he is coming up to +see Lord Nelson and to make inquiry about a ship. Your mother +is well, and I saw her in church on Sunday.”<br> +<br> +“And Boy Jim?”<br> +<br> +Champion Harrison’s good-humoured face clouded over.<br> +<br> +“He’d set his heart very much on comin’ here to-night, +but there were reasons why I didn’t wish him to, and so there’s +a shadow betwixt us. It’s the first that ever was, and I +feel it, Master Rodney. Between ourselves, I have very good reason +to wish him to stay with me, and I am sure that, with his high spirit +and his ideas, he would never settle down again after once he had a +taste o’ London. I left him behind me with enough work to +keep him busy until I get back to him.”<br> +<br> +A tall and beautifully proportioned man, very elegantly dressed, was +strolling towards us. He stared in surprise and held out his hand +to my companion.<br> +<br> +“Why, Jack Harrison!” he cried. “This is a resurrection. +Where in the world did you come from?”<br> +<br> +“Glad to see you, Jackson,” said my companion. “You +look as well and as young as ever.”<br> +<br> +“Thank you, yes. I resigned the belt when I could get no +one to fight me for it, and I took to teaching.”<br> +<br> +“I’m doing smith’s work down Sussex way.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve often wondered why you never had a shy at my belt. +I tell you honestly, between man and man, I’m very glad you didn’t.”<br> +<br> +“Well, it’s real good of you to say that, Jackson. +I might ha’ done it, perhaps, but the old woman was against it. +She’s been a good wife to me and I can’t go against her. +But I feel a bit lonesome here, for these boys are since my time.”<br> +<br> +“You could do some of them over now,” said Jackson, feeling +my friend’s upper arm. “No better bit of stuff was +ever seen in a twenty-four foot ring. It would be a rare treat +to see you take some of these young ones on. Won’t you let +me spring you on them?”<br> +<br> +Harrison’s eyes glistened at the idea, but he shook his head.<br> +<br> +“It won’t do, Jackson. My old woman holds my promise. +That’s Belcher, ain’t it - the good lookin’ young +chap with the flash coat?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, that’s Jem. You’ve not seen him! +He’s a jewel.”<br> +<br> +“So I’ve heard. Who’s the youngster beside him? +He looks a tidy chap.”<br> +<br> +“That’s a new man from the West. Crab Wilson’s +his name.”<br> +<br> +Harrison looked at him with interest. “I’ve heard +of him,” said he. “They are getting a match on for +him, ain’t they?”<br> +<br> +“Yes. Sir Lothian Hume, the thin-faced gentleman over yonder, +has backed him against Sir Charles Tregellis’s man. We’re +to hear about the match to-night, I understand. Jem Belcher thinks +great things of Crab Wilson. There’s Belcher’s young +brother, Tom. He’s looking out for a match, too. They +say he’s quicker than Jem with the mufflers, but he can’t +hit as hard. I was speaking of your brother, Jem.”<br> +<br> +“The young ‘un will make his way,” said Belcher, who +had come across to us. “He’s more a sparrer than a +fighter just at present, but when his gristle sets he’ll take +on anything on the list. Bristol’s as full o’ young +fightin’-men now as a bin is of bottles. We’ve got +two more comin’ up - Gully and Pearce - who’ll make you +London milling coves wish they was back in the west country again.”<br> +<br> +“Here’s the Prince,” said Jackson, as a hum and bustle +rose from the door.<br> +<br> +I saw George come bustling in, with a good-humoured smile upon his comely +face. My uncle welcomed him, and led some of the Corinthians up +to be presented.<br> +<br> +“We’ll have trouble, gov’nor,” said Belcher +to Jackson. “Here’s Joe Berks drinkin’ gin out +of a mug, and you know what a swine he is when he’s drunk.”<br> +<br> +“You must put a stopper on ’im gov’nor,” said +several of the other prize-fighters. “’E ain’t +what you’d call a charmer when ’e’s sober, but there’s +no standing ’im when ’e’s fresh.”<br> +<br> +Jackson, on account of his prowess and of the tact which he possessed, +had been chosen as general regulator of the whole prize-fighting body, +by whom he was usually alluded to as the Commander-in-Chief. He +and Belcher went across now to the table upon which Berks was still +perched. The ruffian’s face was already flushed, and his +eyes heavy and bloodshot.<br> +<br> +“You must keep yourself in hand to-night, Berks,” said Jackson. +“The Prince is here, and - ”<br> +<br> +“I never set eyes on ’im yet,” cried Berks, lurching +off the table. “Where is ’e, gov’nor? +Tell ’im Joe Berks would like to do ’isself proud by shakin’ +’im by the ’and.”<br> +<br> +“No, you don’t, Joe,” said Jackson, laying his hand +upon Berks’s chest, as he tried to push his way through the crowd. +“You’ve got to keep your place, Joe, or we’ll put +you where you can make all the noise you like.”<br> +<br> +“Where’s that, gov’nor?”<br> +<br> +“Into the street, through the window. We’re going +to have a peaceful evening, as Jem Belcher and I will show you if you +get up to any of your Whitechapel games.”<br> +<br> +“No ’arm, gov’nor,” grumbled Berks. “I’m +sure I’ve always ’ad the name of bein’ a very genelman-like +man.”<br> +<br> +“So I’ve always said, Joe Berks, and mind you prove yourself +such. But the supper is ready for us, and there’s the Prince +and Lord Sole going in. Two and two, lads, and don’t forget +whose company you are in.”<br> +<br> +The supper was laid in a large room, with Union Jacks and mottoes hung +thickly upon the walls. The tables were arranged in three sides +of a square, my uncle occupying the centre of the principal one, with +the Prince upon his right and Lord Sele upon his left. By his +wise precaution the seats had been allotted beforehand, so that the +gentlemen might be scattered among the professionals and no risk run +of two enemies finding themselves together, or a man who had been recently +beaten falling into the company of his conqueror. For my own part, +I had Champion Harrison upon one side of me and a stout, florid-faced +man upon the other, who whispered to me that he was “Bill Warr, +landlord of the One Tun public-house, of Jermyn Street, and one of the +gamest men upon the list.”<br> +<br> +“It’s my flesh that’s beat me, sir,” said he. +“It creeps over me amazin’ fast. I should fight at +thirteen-eight, and ’ere I am nearly seventeen. It’s +the business that does it, what with loflin’ about behind the +bar all day, and bein’ afraid to refuse a wet for fear of offendin’ +a customer. It’s been the ruin of many a good fightin’-man +before me.”<br> +<br> +“You should take to my job,” said Harrison. “I’m +a smith by trade, and I’ve not put on half a stone in fifteen +years.”<br> +<br> +“Some take to one thing and some to another, but the most of us +try to ’ave a bar-parlour of our own. There’s Will +Wood, that I beat in forty rounds in the thick of a snowstorm down Navestock +way, ’e drives a ’ackney. Young Firby, the ruffian, +’e’s a waiter now. Dick ‘Umphries sells coals +- ’e was always of a genelmanly disposition. George Ingleston +is a brewer’s drayman. We all find our own cribs. +But there’s one thing you are saved by livin’ in the country, +and that is ’avin’ the young Corinthians and bloods about +town smackin’ you eternally in the face.”<br> +<br> +This was the last inconvenience which I should have expected a famous +prize-fighter to be subjected to, but several bull-faced fellows at +the other side of the table nodded their concurrence.<br> +<br> +“You’re right, Bill,” said one of them. “There’s +no one has had more trouble with them than I have. In they come +of an evenin’ into my bar, with the wine in their heads. +‘Are you Tom Owen the bruiser?’ says one o’ them. +‘At your service, sir,’ says I. ‘Take that, +then,’ says he, and it’s a clip on the nose, or a backhanded +slap across the chops as likely as not. Then they can brag all +their lives that they had hit Tom Owen.”<br> +<br> +“D’you draw their cork in return?” asked Harrison.<br> +<br> +“I argey it out with them. I say to them, ‘Now, gents, +fightin’ is my profession, and I don’t fight for love any +more than a doctor doctors for love, or a butcher gives away a loin +chop. Put up a small purse, master, and I’ll do you over +and proud. But don’t expect that you’re goin’ +to come here and get glutted by a middle-weight champion for nothing.”<br> +<br> +“That’s my way too, Tom,” said my burly neighbour. +“If they put down a guinea on the counter - which they do if they +’ave been drinkin’ very ’eavy - I give them what I +think is about a guinea’s worth and take the money.”<br> +<br> +“But if they don’t?”<br> +<br> +“Why, then, it’s a common assault, d’ye see, against +the body of ’is Majesty’s liege, William Warr, and I ’as +’em before the beak next mornin’, and it’s a week +or twenty shillin’s.”<br> +<br> +Meanwhile the supper was in full swing - one of those solid and uncompromising +meals which prevailed in the days of your grandfathers, and which may +explain to some of you why you never set eyes upon that relative.<br> +<br> +Great rounds of beef, saddles of mutton, smoking tongues, veal and ham +pies, turkeys and chickens, and geese, with every variety of vegetables, +and a succession of fiery cherries and heavy ales were the main staple +of the feast. It was the same meal and the same cooking as their +Norse or German ancestors might have sat down to fourteen centuries +before, and, indeed, as I looked through the steam of the dishes at +the lines of fierce and rugged faces, and the mighty shoulders which +rounded themselves over the board, I could have imagined myself at one +of those old-world carousals of which I had read, where the savage company +gnawed the joints to the bone, and then, with murderous horseplay, hurled +the remains at their prisoners. Here and there the pale, aquiline +features of a sporting Corinthian recalled rather the Norman type, but +in the main these stolid, heavy-jowled faces, belonging to men whose +whole life was a battle, were the nearest suggestion which we have had +in modern times of those fierce pirates and rovers from whose loins +we have sprung.<br> +<br> +And yet, as I looked carefully from man to man in the line which faced +me, I could see that the English, although they were ten to one, had +not the game entirely to themselves, but that other races had shown +that they could produce fighting-men worthy to rank with the best.<br> +<br> +There were, it is true, no finer or braver men in the room than Jackson +and Jem Belcher, the one with his magnificent figure, his small waist +and Herculean shoulders; the other as graceful as an old Grecian statue, +with a head whose beauty many a sculptor had wished to copy, and with +those long, delicate lines in shoulder and loins and limbs, which gave +him the litheness and activity of a panther. Already, as I looked +at him, it seemed to me that there was a shadow of tragedy upon his +face, a forecast of the day then but a few months distant when a blow +from a racquet ball darkened the sight of one eye for ever. Had +he stopped there, with his unbeaten career behind him, then indeed the +evening of his life might have been as glorious as its dawn. But +his proud heart could not permit his title to be torn from him without +a struggle. If even now you can read how the gallant fellow, unable +with his one eye to judge his distances, fought for thirty-five minutes +against his young and formidable opponent, and how, in the bitterness +of defeat, he was heard only to express his sorrow for a friend who +had backed him with all he possessed, and if you are not touched by +the story there must be something wanting in you which should go to +the making of a man.<br> +<br> +But if there were no men at the tables who could have held their own +against Jackson or Jem Belcher, there were others of a different race +and type who had qualities which made them dangerous bruisers. +A little way down the room I saw the black face and woolly head of Bill +Richmond, in a purple-and-gold footman’s livery - destined to +be the predecessor of Molineaux, Sutton, and all that line of black +boxers who have shown that the muscular power and insensibility to pain +which distinguish the African give him a peculiar advantage in the sports +of the ring. He could boast also of the higher honour of having +been the first born American to win laurels in the British ring. +There also I saw the keen features of Dada Mendoza, the Jew, just retired +from active work, and leaving behind him a reputation for elegance and +perfect science which has, to this day, never been exceeded. The +worst fault that the critics could find with him was that there was +a want of power in his blows - a remark which certainly could not have +been made about his neighbour, whose long face, curved nose, and dark, +flashing eyes proclaimed him as a member of the same ancient race. +This was the formidable Dutch Sam, who fought at nine stone six, and +yet possessed such hitting powers, that his admirers, in after years, +were willing to back him against the fourteen-stone Tom Cribb, if each +were strapped a-straddle to a bench. Half a dozen other sallow +Hebrew faces showed how energetically the Jews of Houndsditch and Whitechapel +had taken to the sport of the land of their adoption, and that in this, +as in more serious fields of human effort, they could hold their own +with the best.<br> +<br> +It was my neighbour Warr who very good-humouredly pointed out to me +all these celebrities, the echoes of whose fame had been wafted down +even to our little Sussex village.<br> +<br> +“There’s Andrew Gamble, the Irish champion,” said +he. “It was ’e that beat Noah James, the Guardsman, +and was afterwards nearly killed by Jem Belcher, in the ’ollow +of Wimbledon Common by Abbershaw’s gibbet. The two that +are next ’im are Irish also, Jack O’Donnell and Bill Ryan. +When you get a good Irishman you can’t better ’em, but they’re +dreadful ’asty. That little cove with the leery face is +Caleb Baldwin the Coster, ’im that they call the Pride of Westminster. +’E’s but five foot seven, and nine stone five, but ’e’s +got the ’eart of a giant. ’E’s never been beat, +and there ain’t a man within a stone of ’im that could beat +’im, except only Dutch Sam. There’s George Maddox, +too, another o’ the same breed, and as good a man as ever pulled +his coat off. The genelmanly man that eats with a fork, ’im +what looks like a Corinthian, only that the bridge of ’is nose +ain’t quite as it ought to be, that’s Dick ‘Umphries, +the same that was cock of the middle-weights until Mendoza cut his comb +for ’im. You see the other with the grey ’ead and +the scars on his face?”<br> +<br> +“Why, it’s old Tom Faulkner the cricketer!” cried +Harrison, following the line of Bill Warr’s stubby forefinger. +“He’s the fastest bowler in the Midlands, and at his best +there weren’t many boxers in England that could stand up against +him.”<br> +<br> +“You’re right there, Jack ’Arrison. ’E +was one of the three who came up to fight when the best men of Birmingham +challenged the best men of London. ’E’s an evergreen, +is Tom. Why, he was turned five-and-fifty when he challenged and +beat, after fifty minutes of it, Jack Thornhill, who was tough enough +to take it out of many a youngster. It’s better to give +odds in weight than in years.”<br> +<br> +“Youth will be served,” said a crooning voice from the other +side of the table. “Ay, masters, youth will be served.”<br> +<br> +The man who had spoken was the most extraordinary of all the many curious +figures in the room. He was very, very old, so old that he was +past all comparison, and no one by looking at his mummy skin and fish-like +eyes could give a guess at his years. A few scanty grey hairs +still hung about his yellow scalp. As to his features, they were +scarcely human in their disfigurement, for the deep wrinkles and pouchings +of extreme age had been added to a face which had always been grotesquely +ugly, and had been crushed and smashed in addition by many a blow. +I had noticed this creature at the beginning of the meal, leaning his +chest against the edge of the table as if its support was a welcome +one, and feebly picking at the food which was placed before him. +Gradually, however, as his neighbours plied him with drink, his shoulders +grew squarer, his back stiffened, his eyes brightened, and he looked +about him, with an air of surprise at first, as if he had no clear recollection +of how he came there, and afterwards with an expression of deepening +interest, as he listened, with his ear scooped up in his hand, to the +conversation around him.<br> +<br> +“That’s old Buckhorse,” whispered Champion Harrison. +“He was just the same as that when I joined the ring twenty years +ago. Time was when he was the terror of London.”<br> +<br> +“’E was so,” said Bill Warr. “’E +would fight like a stag, and ’e was that ’ard that ’e +would let any swell knock ’im down for ’alf-a-crown. +’E ’ad no face to spoil, d’ye see, for ’e was +always the ugliest man in England. But ’e’s been on +the shelf now for near sixty years, and it cost ’im many a beatin’ +before ’e could understand that ’is strength was slippin’ +away from ’im.”<br> +<br> +“Youth will be served, masters,” droned the old man, shaking +his head miserably.<br> +<br> +“Fill up ’is glass,” said Warr. “’Ere, +Tom, give old Buckhorse a sup o’ liptrap. Warm his ’eart +for ’im.”<br> +<br> +The old man poured a glass of neat gin down his shrivelled throat, and +the effect upon him was extraordinary. A light glimmered in each +of his dull eyes, a tinge of colour came into his wax-like cheeks, and, +opening his toothless mouth, he suddenly emitted a peculiar, bell-like, +and most musical cry. A hoarse roar of laughter from all the company +answered it, and flushed faces craned over each other to catch a glimpse +of the veteran.<br> +<br> +“There’s Buckhorse!” they cried. “Buckhorse +is comin’ round again.”<br> +<br> +“You can laugh if you vill, masters,” he cried, in his Lewkner +Lane dialect, holding up his two thin, vein-covered hands. “It +von’t be long that you’ll be able to see my crooks vich +’ave been on Figg’s conk, and on Jack Broughton’s, +and on ‘Arry Gray’s, and many another good fightin’ +man that was millin’ for a livin’ before your fathers could +eat pap.”<br> +<br> +The company laughed again, and encouraged the old man by half-derisive +and half-affectionate cries.<br> +<br> +“Let ’em ’ave it, Buckhorse! Give it ’em +straight! Tell us how the millin’ coves did it in your time.”<br> +<br> +The old gladiator looked round him in great contempt.<br> +<br> +“Vy, from vot I see,” he cried, in his high, broken treble, +“there’s some on you that ain’t fit to flick a fly +from a joint o’ meat. You’d make werry good ladies’ +maids, the most of you, but you took the wrong turnin’ ven you +came into the ring.”<br> +<br> +“Give ’im a wipe over the mouth,” said a hoarse voice.<br> +<br> +“Joe Berks,” said Jackson, “I’d save the hangman +the job of breaking your neck if His Royal Highness wasn’t in +the room.”<br> +<br> +“That’s as it may be, guv’nor,” said the half-drunken +ruffian, staggering to his feet. “If I’ve said anything +wot isn’t genelmanlike - ”<br> +<br> +“Sit down, Berks!” cried my uncle, with such a tone of command +that the fellow collapsed into his chair.<br> +<br> +“Vy, vitch of you would look Tom Slack in the face?” piped +the old fellow; “or Jack Broughton? - him vot told the old Dook +of Cumberland that all he vanted vas to fight the King o’ Proosia’s +guard, day by day, year in, year out, until ’e ’ad worked +out the whole regiment of ’em - and the smallest of ’em +six foot long. There’s not more’n a few of you could +’it a dint in a pat o’ butter, and if you gets a smack or +two it’s all over vith you. Vich among you could get up +again after such a vipe as the Eytalian Gondoleery cove gave to Bob +Vittaker?”<br> +<br> +“What was that, Buckhorse?” cried several voices.<br> +<br> +“’E came over ’ere from voreign parts, and ’e +was so broad ’e ’ad to come edgewise through the doors. +’E ’ad so, upon my davy! ’E was that strong +that wherever ’e ’it the bone had got to go; and when ’e’d +cracked a jaw or two it looked as though nothing in the country could +stan’ against him. So the King ’e sent one of his +genelmen down to Figg and he said to him: ‘’Ere’s +a cove vot cracks a bone every time ’e lets vly, and it’ll +be little credit to the Lunnon boys if they lets ’im get avay +vithout a vacking.’ So Figg he ups, and he says, ‘I +do not know, master, but he may break one of ’is countrymen’s +jawbones vid ’is vist, but I’ll bring ’im a Cockney +lad and ’e shall not be able to break ’is jawbone with a +sledge ’ammer.’ I was with Figg in Slaughter’s +coffee-’ouse, as then vas, ven ’e says this to the King’s +genelman, and I goes so, I does!” Again he emitted the curious +bell-like cry, and again the Corinthians and the fighting-men laughed +and applauded him.<br> +<br> +“His Royal Highness - that is, the Earl of Chester - would be +glad to hear the end of your story, Buckhorse,” said my uncle, +to whom the Prince had been whispering.<br> +<br> +“Vell, your R’yal ’Ighness, it vas like this. +Ven the day came round, all the volk came to Figg’s Amphitheatre, +the same that vos in Tottenham Court, an’ Bob Vittaker ’e +vos there, and the Eytalian Gondoleery cove ’e vas there, and +all the purlitest, genteelest crowd that ever vos, twenty thousand of +’em, all sittin’ with their ’eads like purtaties on +a barrer, banked right up round the stage, and me there to pick up Bob, +d’ye see, and Jack Figg ’imself just for fair play to do +vot was right by the cove from voreign parts. They vas packed +all round, the folks was, but down through the middle of ’em was +a passage just so as the gentry could come through to their seats, and +the stage it vas of wood, as the custom then vas, and a man’s +’eight above the ’eads of the people. Vell, then, +ven Bob was put up opposite this great Eytalian man I says ‘Slap +’im in the vind, Bob,’ ’cos I could see vid ’alf +an eye that he vas as puffy as a cheesecake; so Bob he goes in, and +as he comes the vorriner let ’im ’ave it amazin’ on +the conk. I ’eard the thump of it, and I kind o’ velt +somethin’ vistle past me, but ven I looked there vas the Eytalian +a feelin’ of ’is muscles in the middle o’ the stage, +and as to Bob, there vern’t no sign’ of ’im at all +no more’n if ’e’d never been.”<br> +<br> +His audience was riveted by the old prize-fighter’s story. +“Well,” cried a dozen voices, “what then, Buckhorse: +’ad ’e swallowed ’im, or what?”<br> +<br> +“Yell, boys, that vas vat <i>I </i>wondered, when sudden I seed +two legs a-stickin’ up out o’ the crowd a long vay off, +just like these two vingers, d’ye see, and I knewed they vas Bob’s +legs, seein’ that ’e ’ad kind o’ yellow small +clothes vid blue ribbons - vich blue vas ’is colour - at the knee. +So they up-ended ’im, they did, an’ they made a lane for +’im an’ cheered ’im to give ’im ‘eart, +though ’e never lacked for that. At virst ’e vas that +dazed that ’e didn’t know if ’e vas in church or in +‘Orsemonger Gaol; but ven I’d bit ’is two ears ’e +shook ’isself together. ‘Ve’ll try it again, +Buck,’ says ’e. ‘The mark!’ says I. +And ’e vinked all that vas left o’ one eye. So the +Eytalian ’e lets swing again, but Bob ’e jumps inside an’ +’e lets ’im ’ave it plumb square on the meat safe +as ’ard as ever the Lord would let ’im put it in.”<br> +<br> +“Well? Well?”<br> +<br> +“Vell, the Eytalian ’e got a touch of the gurgles, an’ +’e shut ’imself right up like a two-foot rule. Then +’e pulled ’imself straight, an’ ’e gave the +most awful Glory Allelujah screech as ever you ’eard. Off +’e jumps from the stage an’ down the passage as ’ard +as ’is ‘oofs would carry ’im. Up jumps the ‘ole +crowd, and after ’im as ’ard as they could move for laughin’. +They vas lyin’ in the kennel three deep all down Tottenham Court +road wid their ’ands to their sides just vit to break themselves +in two. Vell, ve chased ’im down ‘Olburn, an’ +down Fleet Street, an’ down Cheapside, an’ past the ’Change, +and on all the vay to Voppin’ an’ we only catched ’im +in the shippin’ office, vere ’e vas askin’ ‘ow +soon ’e could get a passage to voreign parts.”<br> +<br> +There was much laughter and clapping of glasses upon the table at the +conclusion of old Buckhorse’s story, and I saw the Prince of Wales +hand something to the waiter, who brought it round and slipped it into +the skinny hand of the veteran, who spat upon it before thrusting it +into his pocket. The table had in the meanwhile been cleared, +and was now studded with bottles and glasses, while long clay pipes +and tobacco-boxes were handed round. My uncle never smoked, thinking +that the habit might darken his teeth, but many of the Corinthians, +and the Prince amongst the first of them, set the example of lighting +up. All restraint had been done away with, and the prize-fighters, +flushed with wine, roared across the tables to each other, or shouted +their greetings to friends at the other end of the room. The amateurs, +falling into the humour of their company, were hardly less noisy, and +loudly debated the merits of the different men, criticizing their styles +of fighting before their faces, and making bets upon the results of +future matches.<br> +<br> +In the midst of the uproar there was an imperative rap upon the table, +and my uncle rose to speak. As he stood with his pale, calm face +and fine figure, I had never seen him to greater advantage, for he seemed, +with all his elegance, to have a quiet air of domination amongst these +fierce fellows, like a huntsman walking carelessly through a springing +and yapping pack. He expressed his pleasure at seeing so many +good sportsmen under one roof, and acknowledged the honour which had +been done both to his guests and himself by the presence there that +night of the illustrious personage whom he should refer to as the Earl +of Chester. He was sorry that the season prevented him from placing +game upon the table, but there was so much sitting round it that it +would perhaps be hardly missed (cheers and laughter). The sports +of the ring had, in his opinion, tended to that contempt of pain and +of danger which had contributed so much in the past to the safety of +the country, and which might, if what he heard was true, be very quickly +needed once more. If an enemy landed upon our shores it was then +that, with our small army, we should be forced to fall back upon native +valour trained into hardihood by the practice and contemplation of manly +sports. In time of peace also the rules of the ring had been of +service in enforcing the principles of fair play, and in turning public +opinion against that use of the knife or of the boot which was so common +in foreign countries. He begged, therefore, to drink “Success +to the Fancy,” coupled with the name of John Jackson, who might +stand as a type of all that was most admirable in British boxing.<br> +<br> +Jackson having replied with a readiness which many a public man might +have envied, my uncle rose once more.<br> +<br> +“We are here to-night,” said he, “not only to celebrate +the past glories of the prize ring, but also to arrange some sport for +the future. It should be easy, now that backers and fighting men +are gathered together under one roof, to come to terms with each other. +I have myself set an example by making a match with Sir Lothian Hume, +the terms of which will be communicated to you by that gentleman.”<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian rose with a paper in his hand.<br> +<br> +“The terms, your Royal Highness and gentlemen, are briefly these,” +said he. “My man, Crab Wilson, of Gloucester, having never +yet fought a prize battle, is prepared to meet, upon May the 18th of +this year, any man of any weight who may be selected by Sir Charles +Tregellis. Sir Charles Tregellis’s selection is limited +to men below twenty or above thirty-five years of age, so as to exclude +Belcher and the other candidates for championship honours. The +stakes are two thousand pounds against a thousand, two hundred to be +paid by the winner to his man; play or pay.”<br> +<br> +It was curious to see the intense gravity of them all, fighters and +backers, as they bent their brows and weighed the conditions of the +match.<br> +<br> +“I am informed,” said Sir John Lade, “that Crab Wilson’s +age is twenty-three, and that, although he has never fought a regular +P.R. battle, he has none the less fought within ropes for a stake on +many occasions.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve seen him half a dozen times at the least,” said +Belcher.<br> +<br> +“It is precisely for that reason, Sir John, that I am laying odds +of two to one in his favour.”<br> +<br> +“May I ask,” said the Prince, “what the exact height +and weight of Wilson may be?”<br> +<br> +“Five foot eleven and thirteen-ten, your Royal Highness.”<br> +<br> +“Long enough and heavy enough for anything on two legs,” +said Jackson, and the professionals all murmured their assent.<br> +<br> +“Read the rules of the fight, Sir Lothian.”<br> +<br> +“The battle to take place on Tuesday, May the 18th, at the hour +of ten in the morning, at a spot to be afterwards named. The ring +to be twenty foot square. Neither to fall without a knock-down +blow, subject to the decision of the umpires. Three umpires to +be chosen upon the ground, namely, two in ordinary and one in reference. +Does that meet your wishes, Sir Charles?”<br> +<br> +My uncle bowed.<br> +<br> +“Have you anything to say, Wilson?”<br> +<br> +The young pugilist, who had a curious, lanky figure, and a craggy, bony +face, passed his fingers through his close-cropped hair.<br> +<br> +“If you please, zir,” said he, with a slight west-country +burr, “a twenty-voot ring is too small for a thirteen-stone man.”<br> +<br> +There was another murmur of professional agreement.<br> +<br> +“What would you have it, Wilson?”<br> +<br> +“Vour-an’-twenty, Sir Lothian.”<br> +<br> +“Have you any objection, Sir Charles?”<br> +<br> +“Not the slightest.”<br> +<br> +“Anything else, Wilson?”<br> +<br> +“If you please, zir, I’d like to know whom I’m vighting +with.”<br> +<br> +“I understand that you have not publicly nominated your man, Sir +Charles?”<br> +<br> +“I do not intend to do so until the very morning of the fight. +I believe I have that right within the terms of our wager.”<br> +<br> +“Certainly, if you choose to exercise it.”<br> +<br> +“I do so intend. And I should be vastly pleased if Mr. Berkeley +Craven will consent to be stake-holder.”<br> +<br> +That gentleman having willingly given his consent, the final formalities +which led up to these humble tournaments were concluded.<br> +<br> +And then, as these full-blooded, powerful men became heated with their +wine, angry eyes began to glare across the table, and amid the grey +swirls of tobacco-smoke the lamp-light gleamed upon the fierce, hawk-like +Jews, and the flushed, savage Saxons. The old quarrel as to whether +Jackson had or had not committed a foul by seizing Mendoza by the hair +on the occasion of their battle at Hornchurch, eight years before, came +to the front once more. Dutch Sam hurled a shilling down upon +the table, and offered to fight the Pride of Westminster for it if he +ventured to say that Mendoza had been fairly beaten. Joe Berks, +who had grown noisier and more quarrelsome as the evening went on, tried +to clamber across the table, with horrible blasphemies, to come to blows +with an old Jew named Fighting Yussef, who had plunged into the discussion. +It needed very little more to finish the supper by a general and ferocious +battle, and it was only the exertions of Jackson, Belcher, Harrison, +and others of the cooler and steadier men, which saved us from a riot.<br> +<br> +And then, when at last this question was set aside, that of the rival +claims to championships at different weights came on in its stead, and +again angry words flew about and challenges were in the air. There +was no exact limit between the light, middle, and heavyweights, and +yet it would make a very great difference to the standing of a boxer +whether he should be regarded as the heaviest of the light-weights, +or the lightest of the heavy-weights. One claimed to be ten-stone +champion, another was ready to take on anything at eleven, but would +not run to twelve, which would have brought the invincible Jem Belcher +down upon him. Faulkner claimed to be champion of the seniors, +and even old Buckhorse’s curious call rang out above the tumult +as he turned the whole company to laughter and good humour again by +challenging anything over eighty and under seven stone.<br> +<br> +But in spite of gleams of sunshine, there was thunder in the air, and +Champion Harrison had just whispered in my ear that he was quite sure +that we should never get through the night without trouble, and was +advising me, if it got very bad, to take refuge under the table, when +the landlord entered the room hurriedly and handed a note to my uncle.<br> +<br> +He read it, and then passed it to the Prince, who returned it with raised +eyebrows and a gesture of surprise. Then my uncle rose with the +scrap of paper in his hand and a smile upon his lips.<br> +<br> +“Gentlemen,” said he, “there is a stranger waiting +below who desires a fight to a finish with the best men in the room.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XI - THE FIGHT IN THE COACH-HOUSE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The curt announcement was followed by a moment of silent surprise, and +then by a general shout of laughter. There might be argument as +to who was champion at each weight; but there could be no question that +all the champions of all the weights were seated round the tables. +An audacious challenge which embraced them one and all, without regard +to size or age, could hardly be regarded otherwise than as a joke - +but it was a joke which might be a dear one for the joker.<br> +<br> +“Is this genuine?” asked my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Yes, Sir Charles,” answered the landlord; “the man +is waiting below.”<br> +<br> +“It’s a kid!” cried several of the fighting-men. +“Some cove is a gammonin’ us.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t you believe it,” answered the landlord. +“He’s a real slap-up Corinthian, by his dress; and he means +what he says, or else I ain’t no judge of a man.”<br> +<br> +My uncle whispered for a few moments with the Prince of Wales. +“Well, gentlemen,” said he, at last, “the night is +still young, and if any of you should wish to show the company a little +of your skill, you could not ask a better opportunity.”<br> +<br> +“What weight is he, Bill?” asked Jem Belcher.<br> +<br> +“He’s close on six foot, and I should put him well into +the thirteen stones when he’s buffed.”<br> +<br> +“Heavy metal!” cried Jackson. “Who takes him +on?”<br> +<br> +They all wanted to, from nine-stone Dutch Sam upwards. The air +was filled with their hoarse shouts and their arguments why each should +be the chosen one. To fight when they were flushed with wine and +ripe for mischief - above all, to fight before so select a company with +the Prince at the ringside, was a chance which did not often come in +their way. Only Jackson, Belcher, Mendoza, and one or two others +of the senior and more famous men remained silent, thinking it beneath +their dignity that they should condescend to so irregular a bye-battle.<br> +<br> +“Well, you can’t all fight him,” remarked Jackson, +when the babel had died away. “It’s for the chairman +to choose.”<br> +<br> +“Perhaps your Royal Highness has a preference,” said my +uncle.<br> +<br> +“By Jove, I’d take him on myself if my position was different,” +said the Prince, whose face was growing redder and his eyes more glazed. +“You’ve seen me with the mufflers, Jackson! You know +my form!”<br> +<br> +“I’ve seen your Royal Highness, and I have felt your Royal +Highness,” said the courtly Jackson.<br> +<br> +“Perhaps Jem Belcher would give us an exhibition,” said +my uncle.<br> +<br> +Belcher smiled and shook his handsome head.<br> +<br> +“There’s my brother Tom here has never been blooded in London +yet, sir. He might make a fairer match of it.”<br> +<br> +“Give him over to me!” roared Joe Berks. “I’ve +been waitin’ for a turn all evenin’, an’ I’ll +fight any man that tries to take my place. ’E’s my +meat, my masters. Leave ’im to me if you want to see ‘ow +a calf’s ’ead should be dressed. If you put Tom Belcher +before me I’ll fight Tom Belcher, an’ for that matter I’ll +fight Jem Belcher, or Bill Belcher, or any other Belcher that ever came +out of Bristol.”<br> +<br> +It was clear that Berks had got to the stage when he must fight some +one. His heavy face was gorged and the veins stood out on his +low forehead, while his fierce grey eyes looked viciously from man to +man in quest of a quarrel. His great red hands were bunched into +huge, gnarled fists, and he shook one of them menacingly as his drunken +gaze swept round the tables.<br> +<br> +“I think you’ll agree with me, gentlemen, that Joe Berks +would be all the better for some fresh air and exercise,” said +my uncle. “With the concurrence of His Royal Highness and +of the company, I shall select him as our champion on this occasion.”<br> +<br> +“You do me proud,” cried the fellow, staggering to his feet +and pulling at his coat. “If I don’t glut him within +the five minutes, may I never see Shropshire again.”<br> +<br> +“Wait a bit, Berks,” cried several of the amateurs. +“Where’s it going to be held?”<br> +<br> +“Where you like, masters. I’ll fight him in a sawpit, +or on the outside of a coach if it please you. Put us toe to toe, +and leave the rest with me.”<br> +<br> +“They can’t fight here with all this litter,” said +my uncle. “Where shall it be?”<br> +<br> +“’Pon my soul, Tregellis,” cried the Prince, “I +think our unknown friend might have a word to say upon that matter. +He’ll be vastly ill-used if you don’t let him have his own +choice of conditions.”<br> +<br> +“You are right, sir. We must have him up.”<br> +<br> +“That’s easy enough,” said the landlord, “for +here he comes through the doorway.”<br> +<br> +I glanced round and had a side view of a tall and well-dressed young +man in a long, brown travelling coat and a black felt hat. The +next instant he had turned and I had clutched with both my hands on +to Champion Harrison’s arm.<br> +<br> +“Harrison!” I gasped. “It’s Boy Jim!”<br> +<br> +And yet somehow the possibility and even the probability of it had occurred +to me from the beginning, and I believe that it had to Harrison also, +for I had noticed that his face grew grave and troubled from the very +moment that there was talk of the stranger below. Now, the instant +that the buzz of surprise and admiration caused by Jim’s face +and figure had died away, Harrison was on his feet, gesticulating in +his excitement.<br> +<br> +“It’s my nephew Jim, gentlemen,” he cried. “He’s +not twenty yet, and it’s no doing of mine that he should be here.”<br> +<br> +“Let him alone, Harrison,” cried Jackson. “He’s +big enough to take care of himself.”<br> +<br> +“This matter has gone rather far,” said my uncle. +“I think, Harrison, that you are too good a sportsman to prevent +your nephew from showing whether he takes after his uncle.”<br> +<br> +“It’s very different from me,” cried Harrison, in +great distress. “But I’ll tell you what I’ll +do, gentlemen. I never thought to stand up in a ring again, but +I’ll take on Joe Berks with pleasure, just to give a bit o’ +sport to this company.”<br> +<br> +Boy Jim stepped across and laid his hand upon the prize-fighter’s +shoulder.<br> +<br> +“It must be so, uncle,” I heard him whisper. “I +am sorry to go against your wishes, but I have made up my mind, and +I must carry it through.”<br> +<br> +Harrison shrugged his huge shoulders.<br> +<br> +“Jim, Jim, you don’t know what you are doing! But +I’ve heard you speak like that before, boy, and I know that it +ends in your getting your way.”<br> +<br> +“I trust, Harrison, that your opposition is withdrawn?” +said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Can I not take his place?”<br> +<br> +“You would not have it said that I gave a challenge and let another +carry it out?” whispered Jim. “This is my one chance. +For Heaven’s sake don’t stand in my way.”<br> +<br> +The smith’s broad and usually stolid face was all working with +his conflicting emotions. At last he banged his fist down upon +the table.<br> +<br> +“It’s no fault of mine!” he cried. “It +was to be and it is. Jim, boy, for the Lord’s sake remember +your distances, and stick to out-fightin’ with a man that could +give you a stone.”<br> +<br> +“I was sure that Harrison would not stand in the way of sport,” +said my uncle. “We are glad that you have stepped up, that +we might consult you as to the arrangements for giving effect to your +very sporting challenge.”<br> +<br> +“Whom am I to fight?” asked Jim, looking round at the company, +who were now all upon their feet.<br> +<br> +“Young man, you’ll know enough of who you ’ave to +fight before you are through with it,” cried Berks, lurching heavily +through the crowd. “You’ll need a friend to swear +to you before I’ve finished, d’ye see?”<br> +<br> +Jim looked at him with disgust in every line of his face.<br> +<br> +“Surely you are not going to set me to fight a drunken man!” +said he. “Where is Jem Belcher?”<br> +<br> +“My name, young man.”<br> +<br> +“I should be glad to try you, if I may.”<br> +<br> +“You must work up to me, my lad. You don’t take a +ladder at one jump, but you do it rung by rung. Show yourself +to be a match for me, and I’ll give you a turn.”<br> +<br> +“I’m much obliged to you.”<br> +<br> +“And I like the look of you, and wish you well,” said Belcher, +holding out his hand. They were not unlike each other, either +in face or figure, though the Bristol man was a few years the older, +and a murmur of critical admiration was heard as the two tall, lithe +figures, and keen, clean-cut faces were contrasted.<br> +<br> +“Have you any choice where the fight takes place?” asked +my uncle.<br> +<br> +“I am in your hands, sir,” said Jim.<br> +<br> +“Why not go round to the Five’s Court?” suggested +Sir John Lade.<br> +<br> +“Yes, let us go to the Five’s Court.”<br> +<br> +But this did not at all suit the views of the landlord, who saw in this +lucky incident a chance of reaping a fresh harvest from his spendthrift +company.<br> +<br> +“If it please you,” he cried, “there is no need to +go so far. My coach-house at the back of the yard is empty, and +a better place for a mill you’ll never find.”<br> +<br> +There was a general shout in favour of the coach-house, and those who +were nearest the door began to slip through, in the hope of scouring +the best places. My stout neighbour, Bill Warr, pulled Harrison +to one side.<br> +<br> +“I’d stop it if I were you,” he whispered.<br> +<br> +“I would if I could. It’s no wish of mine that he +should fight. But there’s no turning him when once his mind +is made up.” All his own fights put together had never reduced +the pugilist to such a state of agitation.<br> +<br> +“Wait on ’im yourself, then, and chuck up the sponge when +things begin to go wrong. You know Joe Berks’s record?”<br> +<br> +“He’s since my time.”<br> +<br> +“Well, ’e’s a terror, that’s all. It’s +only Belcher that can master ’im. You see the man for yourself, +six foot, fourteen stone, and full of the devil. Belcher’s +beat ’im twice, but the second time ’e ’ad all ’is +work to do it.”<br> +<br> +“Well, well, we’ve got to go through with it. You’ve +not seen Boy Jim put his mawleys up, or maybe you’d think better +of his chances. When he was short of sixteen he licked the Cock +of the South Downs, and he’s come on a long way since then.”<br> +<br> +The company was swarming through the door and clattering down the stair, +so we followed in the stream. A fine rain was falling, and the +yellow lights from the windows glistened upon the wet cobblestones of +the yard. How welcome was that breath of sweet, damp air after +the fetid atmosphere of the supper-room. At the other end of the +yard was an open door sharply outlined by the gleam of lanterns within, +and through this they poured, amateurs and fighting-men jostling each +other in their eagerness to get to the front. For my own part, +being a smallish man, I should have seen nothing had I not found an +upturned bucket in a corner, upon which I perched myself with the wall +at my back.<br> +<br> +It was a large room with a wooden floor and an open square in the ceiling, +which was fringed with the heads of the ostlers and stable boys who +were looking down from the harness-room above. A carriage-lamp +was slung in each corner, and a very large stable-lantern hung from +a rafter in the centre. A coil of rope had been brought in, and +under the direction of Jackson four men had been stationed to hold it.<br> +<br> +“What space do you give them?” asked my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Twenty-four, as they are both big ones, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, and half-minutes between rounds, I suppose? +I’ll umpire if Sir Lothian Hume will do the same, and you can +hold the watch and referee, Jackson.”<br> +<br> +With great speed and exactness every preparation was rapidly made by +these experienced men. Mendoza and Dutch Sam were commissioned +to attend to Berks, while Belcher and Jack Harrison did the same for +Boy Jim. Sponges, towels, and some brandy in a bladder were passed +over the heads of the crowd for the use of the seconds.<br> +<br> +“Here’s our man,” cried Belcher. “Come +along, Berks, or we’ll go to fetch you.”<br> +<br> +Jim appeared in the ring stripped to the waist, with a coloured handkerchief +tied round his middle. A shout of admiration came from the spectators +as they looked upon the fine lines of his figure, and I found myself +roaring with the rest. His shoulders were sloping rather than +bulky, and his chest was deep rather than broad, but the muscle was +all in the right place, rippling down in long, low curves from neck +to shoulder, and from shoulder to elbow. His work at the anvil +had developed his arms to their utmost, and his healthy country living +gave a sleek gloss to his ivory skin, which shone in the lamplight. +His expression was full of spirit and confidence, and he wore a grim +sort of half-smile which I had seen many a time in our boyhood, and +which meant, I knew, that his pride had set iron hard, and that his +senses would fail him long before his courage.<br> +<br> +Joe Berks in the meanwhile had swaggered in and stood with folded arms +between his seconds in the opposite corner. His face had none +of the eager alertness of his opponent, and his skin, of a dead white, +with heavy folds about the chest and ribs, showed, even to my inexperienced +eyes, that he was not a man who should fight without training. +A life of toping and ease had left him flabby and gross. On the +other hand, he was famous for his mettle and for his hitting power, +so that, even in the face of the advantages of youth and condition, +the betting was three to one in his favour. His heavy-jowled, +clean-shaven face expressed ferocity as well as courage, and he stood +with his small, blood-shot eyes fixed viciously upon Jim, and his lumpy +shoulders stooping a little forwards, like a fierce hound training on +a leash.<br> +<br> +The hubbub of the betting had risen until it drowned all other sounds, +men shouting their opinions from one side of the coach-house to the +other, and waving their hands to attract attention, or as a sign that +they had accepted a wager. Sir John Lade, standing just in front +of me, was roaring out the odds against Jim, and laying them freely +with those who fancied the appearance of the unknown.<br> +<br> +“I’ve seen Berks fight,” said he to the Honourable +Berkeley Craven. “No country hawbuck is going to knock out +a man with such a record.”<br> +<br> +“He may be a country hawbuck,” the other answered, “but +I have been reckoned a judge of anything either on two legs or four, +and I tell you, Sir John, that I never saw a man who looked better bred +in my life. Are you still laying against him?”<br> +<br> +“Three to one.”<br> +<br> +“Have you once in hundreds.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, Craven! There they go! Berks! Berks! +Bravo! Berks! Bravo! I think, Craven, that I shall +trouble you for that hundred.”<br> +<br> +The two men had stood up to each other, Jim as light upon his feet as +a goat, with his left well out and his right thrown across the lower +part of his chest, while Berks held both arms half extended and his +feet almost level, so that he might lead off with either side. +For an instant they looked each other over, and then Berks, ducking +his head and rushing in with a handover-hand style of hitting, bored +Jim down into his corner. It was a backward slip rather than a +knockdown, but a thin trickle of blood was seen at the corner of Jim’s +mouth. In an instant the seconds had seized their men and carried +them back into their corners.<br> +<br> +“Do you mind doubling our bet?” said Berkeley Craven, who +was craning his neck to get a glimpse of Jim.<br> +<br> +“Four to one on Berks! Four to one on Berks!” cried +the ringsiders.<br> +<br> +“The odds have gone up, you see. Will you have four to one +in hundreds?”<br> +<br> +“Very good, Sir John.”<br> +<br> +“You seem to fancy him more for having been knocked down.”<br> +<br> +“He was pushed down, but he stopped every blow, and I liked the +look on his face as he got up again.”<br> +<br> +“Well, it’s the old stager for me. Here they come +again! He’s got a pretty style, and he covers his points +well, but it isn’t the best looking that wins.”<br> +<br> +They were at it again, and I was jumping about upon my bucket in my +excitement. It was evident that Berks meant to finish the battle +off-hand, whilst Jim, with two of the most experienced men in England +to advise him, was quite aware that his correct tactics were to allow +the ruffian to expend his strength and wind in vain. There was +something horrible in the ferocious energy of Berks’s hitting, +every blow fetching a grunt from him as he smashed it in, and after +each I gazed at Jim, as I have gazed at a stranded vessel upon the Sussex +beach when wave after wave has roared over it, fearing each time that +I should find it miserably mangled. But still the lamplight shone +upon the lad’s clear, alert face, upon his well-opened eyes and +his firm-set mouth, while the blows were taken upon his forearm or allowed, +by a quick duck of the head, to whistle over his shoulder. But +Berks was artful as well as violent. Gradually he worked Jim back +into an angle of the ropes from which there was no escape, and then, +when he had him fairly penned, he sprang upon him like a tiger. +What happened was so quick that I cannot set its sequence down in words, +but I saw Jim make a quick stoop under the swinging arms, and at the +same instant I heard a sharp, ringing smack, and there was Jim dancing +about in the middle of the ring, and Berks lying upon his side on the +floor, with his hand to his eye.<br> +<br> +How they roared! Prize-fighters, Corinthians, Prince, stable-boy, +and landlord were all shouting at the top of their lungs. Old +Buckhorse was skipping about on a box beside me, shrieking out criticisms +and advice in strange, obsolete ring-jargon, which no one could understand. +His dull eyes were shining, his parchment face<i> </i>was quivering +with excitement, and his strange musical call rang out above all the +hubbub. The two men were hurried to their corners, one second +sponging them down and the other flapping a towel in front of their +face; whilst they, with arms hanging down and legs extended, tried to +draw all the air they could into their lungs in the brief space allowed +them.<br> +<br> +“Where’s your country hawbuck now?” cried Craven, +triumphantly. “Did ever you witness anything more masterly?”<br> +<br> +“He’s no Johnny Raw, certainly,” said Sir John, shaking +his head. “What odds are you giving on Berks, Lord Sole?”<br> +<br> +“Two to one.”<br> +<br> +“I take you twice in hundreds.”<br> +<br> +“Here’s Sir John Lade hedging!” cried my uncle, smiling +back at us over his shoulder.<br> +<br> +“Time!” said Jackson, and the two men sprang forward to +the mark again.<br> +<br> +This round was a good deal shorter than that which had preceded it. +Berks’s orders evidently were to close at any cost, and so make +use of his extra weight and strength before the superior condition of +his antagonist could have time to tell. On the other hand, Jim, +after his experience in the last round, was less disposed to make any +great exertion to keep him at arms’ length. He led at Berks’s +head, as he came rushing in, and missed him, receiving a severe body +blow in return, which left the imprint of four angry knuckles above +his ribs. As they closed Jim caught his opponent’s bullet +head under his arm for an instant, and put a couple of half-arm blows +in; but the prize-fighter pulled him over by his weight, and the two +fell panting side by side upon the ground. Jim sprang up, however, +and walked over to his corner, while Berks, distressed by his evening’s +dissipation, leaned one arm upon Mendoza and the other upon Dutch Sam +as he made for his seat.<br> +<br> +“Bellows to mend!” cried Jem Belcher. “Where’s +the four to one now?”<br> +<br> +“Give us time to get the lid off our pepper-box,” said Mendoza. +“We mean to make a night of it.”<br> +<br> +“Looks like it,” said Jack Harrison. “He’s +shut one of his eyes already. Even money that my boy wins it!”<br> +<br> +“How much?” asked several voices.<br> +<br> +“Two pound four and threepence,” cried Harrison, counting +out all his worldly wealth.<br> +<br> +“Time!” said Jackson once more.<br> +<br> +They were both at the mark in an instant, Jim as full of sprightly confidence +as ever, and Berks with a fixed grin upon his bull-dog face and a most +vicious gleam in the only eye which was of use to him. His half-minute +had not enabled him to recover his breath, and his huge, hairy chest +was rising and falling with a quick, loud panting like a spent hound. +“Go in, boy! Bustle him!” roared Harrison and Belcher. +“Get your wind, Joe; get your wind!” cried the Jews. +So now we had a reversal of tactics, for it was Jim who went in to hit +with all the vigour of his young strength and unimpaired energy, while +it was the savage Berks who was paying his debt to Nature for the many +injuries which he had done her. He gasped, he gurgled, his face +grew purple in his attempts to get his breath, while with his long left +arm extended and his right thrown across, he tried to screen himself +from the attack of his wiry antagonist. “Drop when he hits!” +cried Mendoza. “Drop and have a rest!”<br> +<br> +But there was no shyness or shiftiness about Berks’s fighting. +He was always a gallant ruffian, who disdained to go down before an +antagonist as long as his legs would sustain him. He propped Jim +off with his long arm, and though the lad sprang lightly round him looking +for an opening, he was held off as if a forty-inch bar of iron were +between them. Every instant now was in favour of Berks, and already +his breathing was easier and the bluish tinge fading from his face. +Jim knew that his chance of a speedy victory was slipping away from +him, and he came back again and again as swift as a flash to the attack +without being able to get past the passive defence of the trained fighting-man. +It was at such a moment that ringcraft was needed, and luckily for Jim +two masters of it were at his back.<br> +<br> +“Get your left on his mark, boy,” they shouted, “then +go to his head with the right.”<br> +<br> +Jim heard and acted on the instant. Plunk! came his left just +where his antagonist’s ribs curved from his breast-bone. +The force of the blow was half broken by Berks’s elbow, but it +served its purpose of bringing forward his head. Spank! went the +right, with the clear, crisp sound of two billiard balls clapping together, +and Berks reeled, flung up his arms, spun round, and fell in a huge, +fleshy heap upon the floor. His seconds were on him instantly, +and propped him up in a sitting position, his head rolling helplessly +from one shoulder to the other, and finally toppling backwards with +his chin pointed to the ceiling. Dutch Sam thrust the brandy-bladder +between his teeth, while Mendoza shook him savagely and howled insults +in his ear, but neither the spirits nor the sense of injury could break +into that serene insensibility. “Time!” was duly called, +and the Jews, seeing that the affair was over, let their man’s +head fall back with a crack upon the floor, and there he lay, his huge +arms and legs asprawl, whilst the Corinthians and fighting-men crowded +past him to shake the hand of his conqueror.<br> +<br> +For my part, I tried also to press through the throng, but it was no +easy task for one of the smallest and weakest men in the room. +On all sides of me I heard a brisk discussion from amateurs and professionals +of Jim’s performance and of his prospects.<br> +<br> +“He’s the best bit of new stuff that I’ve seen since +Jem Belcher fought his first fight with Paddington Jones at Wormwood +Scrubbs four years ago last April,” said Berkeley Craven. +“You’ll see him with the belt round his waist before he’s +five-and-twenty, or I am no judge of a man.”<br> +<br> +“That handsome face of his has cost me a cool five hundred,” +grumbled Sir John Lade. “Who’d have thought he was +such a punishing hitter?”<br> +<br> +“For all that,” said another, “I am confident that +if Joe Berks had been sober he would have eaten him. Besides, +the lad was in training, and the other would burst like an overdone +potato if he were hit. I never saw a man so soft, or with his +wind in such condition. Put the men in training, and it’s +a horse to a hen on the bruiser.”<br> +<br> +Some agreed with the last speaker and some were against him, so that +a brisk argument was being carried on around me. In the midst +of it the Prince took his departure, which was the signal for the greater +part of the company to make for the door. In this way I was able +at last to reach the corner where Jim had just finished his dressing, +while Champion Harrison, with tears of joy still shining upon his cheeks, +was helping him on with his overcoat.<br> +<br> +“In four rounds!” he kept repeating in a sort of an ecstasy. +“Joe Berks in four rounds! And it took Jem Belcher fourteen!”<br> +<br> +“Well, Roddy,” cried Jim, holding out his hand, “I +told you that I would come to London and make my name known.”<br> +<br> +“It was splendid, Jim!”<br> +<br> +“Dear old Roddy! I saw your white face staring at me from +the corner. You are not changed, for all your grand clothes and +your London friends.”<br> +<br> +“It is you who are changed, Jim,” said I; “I hardly +knew you when you came into the room.”<br> +<br> +“Nor I,” cried the smith. “Where got you all +these fine feathers, Jim? Sure I am that it was not your aunt +who helped you to the first step towards the prize-ring.”<br> +<br> +“Miss Hinton has been my friend - the best friend I ever had.”<br> +<br> +“Humph! I thought as much,” grumbled the smith. +“Well, it is no doing of mine, Jim, and you must bear witness +to that when we go home again. I don’t know what - but, +there, it is done, and it can’t be helped. After all, she’s +- Now, the deuce take my clumsy tongue!”<br> +<br> +I could not tell whether it was the wine which he had taken at supper +or the excitement of Boy Jim’s victory which was affecting Harrison, +but his usually placid face wore a most disturbed expression, and his +manner seemed to betray an alternation of exultation and embarrassment. +Jim looked curiously at him, wondering evidently what it was that lay +behind these abrupt sentences and sudden silences. The coach-house +had in the mean time been cleared; Berks with many curses had staggered +at last to his feet, and had gone off in company with two other bruisers, +while Jem Belcher alone remained chatting very earnestly with my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Very good, Belcher,” I heard my uncle say.<br> +<br> +“It would be a real pleasure to me to do it, sir,” and the +famous prize-fighter, as the two walked towards us.<br> +<br> +“I wished to ask you, Jim Harrison, whether you would undertake +to be my champion in the fight against Crab Wilson of Gloucester?” +said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“That is what I want, Sir Charles - to have a chance of fighting +my way upwards.”<br> +<br> +“There are heavy stakes upon the event - very heavy stakes,” +said my uncle. “You will receive two hundred pounds, if +you win. Does that satisfy you?”<br> +<br> +“I shall fight for the honour, and because I wish to be thought +worthy of being matched against Jem Belcher.”<br> +<br> +Belcher laughed good-humouredly.<br> +<br> +“You are going the right way about it, lad,” said he. +“But you had a soft thing on to-night with a drunken man who was +out of condition.”<br> +<br> +“I did not wish to fight him,” said Jim, flushing.<br> +<br> +“Oh, I know you have spirit enough to fight anything on two legs. +I knew that the instant I clapped eyes on you; but I want you to remember +that when you fight Crab Wilson, you will fight the most promising man +from the west, and that the best man of the west is likely to be the +best man in England. He’s as quick and as long in the reach +as you are, and he’ll train himself to the last half-ounce of +tallow. I tell you this now, d’ye see, because if I’m +to have the charge of you - ”<br> +<br> +“Charge of me!”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said my uncle. “Belcher has consented +to train you for the coming battle if you are willing to enter.”<br> +<br> +“I am sure I am very much obliged to you,” cried Jim, heartily. +“Unless my uncle should wish to train me, there is no one I would +rather have.”<br> +<br> +“Nay, Jim; I’ll stay with you a few days, but Belcher knows +a deal more about training than I do. Where will the quarters +be?”<br> +<br> +“I thought it would be handy for you if we fixed it at the George, +at Crawley. Then, if we have choice of place, we might choose +Crawley Down, for, except Molesey Hurst, and, maybe, Smitham Bottom, +there isn’t a spot in the country that would compare with it for +a mill. Do you agree with that?”<br> +<br> +“With all my heart,” said Jim.<br> +<br> +“Then you’re my man from this hour on, d’ye see?” +said Belcher. “Your food is mine, and your drink is mine, +and your sleep is mine, and all you’ve to do is just what you +are told. We haven’t an hour to lose, for Wilson has been +in half-training this month back. You saw his empty glass to-night.”<br> +<br> +“Jim’s fit to fight for his life at the present moment,” +said Harrison. “But we’ll both come down to Crawley +to-morrow. So good night, Sir Charles.”<br> +<br> +“Good night, Roddy,” said Jim. “You’ll +come down to Crawley and see me at my training quarters, will you not?”<br> +<br> +And I heartily promised that I would.<br> +<br> +“You must be more careful, nephew,” said my uncle, as we +rattled home in his model <i>vis-à-vis. “En première +jeunesse </i>one is a little inclined to be ruled by one’s heart +rather than by one’s reason. Jim Harrison seems to be a +most respectable young fellow, but after all he is a blacksmith’s +apprentice, and a candidate for the prize-ring. There is a vast +gap between his position and that of my own blood relation, and you +must let him feel that you are his superior.”<br> +<br> +“He is the oldest and dearest friend that I have in the world, +sir,” I answered. “We were boys together, and have +never had a secret from each other. As to showing him that I am +his superior, I don’t know how I can do that, for I know very +well that he is mine.”<br> +<br> +“Hum!” said my uncle, drily, and it was the last word that +he addressed to me that night.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XII - THE COFFEE-ROOM OF FLADONG’S<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +So Boy Jim went down to the George, at Crawley, under the charge of +Jim Belcher and Champion Harrison, to train for his great fight with +Crab Wilson, of Gloucester, whilst every club and bar parlour of London +rang with the account of how he had appeared at a supper of Corinthians, +and beaten the formidable Joe Berks in four rounds. I remembered +that afternoon at Friar’s Oak when Jim had told me that he would +make his name known, and his words had come true sooner than he could +have expected it, for, go where one might, one heard of nothing but +the match between Sir Lothian Hume and Sir Charles Tregellis, and the +points of the two probable combatants. The betting was still steadily +in favour of Wilson, for he had a number of bye-battles to set against +this single victory of Jim’s, and it was thought by connoisseurs +who had seen him spar that the singular defensive tactics which had +given him his nickname would prove very puzzling to a raw antagonist. +In height, strength, and reputation for gameness there was very little +to choose between them, but Wilson had been the more severely tested.<br> +<br> +It was but a few days before the battle that my father made his promised +visit to London. The seaman had no love of cities, and was happier +wandering over the Downs, and turning his glass upon every topsail which +showed above the horizon, than when finding his way among crowded streets, +where, as he complained, it was impossible to keep a course by the sun, +and hard enough by dead reckoning. Rumours of war were in the +air, however, and it was necessary that he should use his influence +with Lord Nelson if a vacancy were to be found either for himself or +for me.<br> +<br> +My uncle had just set forth, as was his custom of an evening, clad in +his green riding-frock, his plate buttons, his Cordovan boots, and his +round hat, to show himself upon his crop-tailed tit in the Mall. +I had remained behind, for, indeed, I had already made up my mind that +I had no calling for this fashionable life. These men, with their +small waists, their gestures, and their unnatural ways, had become wearisome +to me, and even my uncle, with his cold and patronizing manner, filled +me with very mixed feelings. My thoughts were back in Sussex, +and I was dreaming of the kindly, simple ways of the country, when there +came a rat-tat at the knocker, the ring of a hearty voice, and there, +in the doorway, was the smiling, weather-beaten face, with the puckered +eyelids and the light blue eyes.<br> +<br> +“Why, Roddy, you are grand indeed!” he cried. “But +I had rather see you with the King’s blue coat upon your back +than with all these frills and ruffles.”<br> +<br> +“And I had rather wear it, father.”<br> +<br> +“It warms my heart to hear you say so. Lord Nelson has promised +me that he would find a berth for you, and to-morrow we shall seek him +out and remind him of it. But where is your uncle?”<br> +<br> +“He is riding in the Mall.”<br> +<br> +A look of relief passed over my father’s honest face, for he was +never very easy in his brother-in-law’s company. “I +have been to the Admiralty,” said he, “and I trust that +I shall have a ship when war breaks out; by all accounts it will not +be long first. Lord St. Vincent told me so with his own lips. +But I am at Fladong’s, Rodney, where, if you will come and sup +with me, you will see some of my messmates from the Mediterranean.”<br> +<br> +When you think that in the last year of the war we had 140,000 seamen +and mariners afloat, commanded by 4000 officers, and that half of these +had been turned adrift when the Peace of Amiens laid their ships up +in the Hamoaze or Portsdown creek, you will understand that London, +as well as the dockyard towns, was full of seafarers. You could +not walk the streets without catching sight of the gipsy-faced, keen-eyed +men whose plain clothes told of their thin purses as plainly as their +listless air showed their weariness of a life of forced and unaccustomed +inaction. Amid the dark streets and brick houses there was something +out of place in their appearance, as when the sea-gulls, driven by stress +of weather, are seen in the Midland shires. Yet while prize-courts +procrastinated, or there was a chance of an appointment by showing their +sunburned faces at the Admiralty, so long they would continue to pace +with their quarter-deck strut down Whitehall, or to gather of an evening +to discuss the events of the last war or the chances of the next at +Fladong’s, in Oxford Street, which was reserved as entirely for +the Navy as Slaughter’s was for the Army, or Ibbetson’s +for the Church of England.<br> +<br> +It did not surprise me, therefore, that we should find the large room +in which we supped crowded with naval men, but I remember that what +did cause me some astonishment was to observe that all these sailors, +who had served under the most varying conditions in all quarters of +the globe, from the Baltic to the East Indies, should have been moulded +into so uniform a type that they were more like each other than brother +is commonly to brother. The rules of the service insured that +every face should be clean-shaven, every head powdered, and every neck +covered by the little queue of natural hair tied with a black silk ribbon. +Biting winds and tropical suns had combined to darken them, whilst the +habit of command and the menace of ever-recurring dangers had stamped +them all with the same expression of authority and of alertness. +There were some jovial faces amongst them, but the older officers, with +their deep-lined cheeks and their masterful noses, were, for the most +part, as austere as so many weather-beaten ascetics from the desert. +Lonely watches, and a discipline which cut them off from all companionship, +had left their mark upon those Red Indian faces. For my part, +I could hardly eat my supper for watching them. Young as I was, +I knew that if there were any freedom left in Europe it was to these +men that we owed it; and I seemed to read upon their grim, harsh features +the record of that long ten years of struggle which had swept the tricolour +from the seas.<br> +<br> +When we had finished our supper, my father led me into the great coffee-room, +where a hundred or more officers may have been assembled, drinking their +wine and smoking their long clay pipes, until the air was as thick as +the main-deck in a close-fought action. As we entered we found +ourselves face to face with an elderly officer who was coming out. +He was a man with large, thoughtful eyes, and a full, placid face - +such a face as one would expect from a philosopher and a philanthropist, +rather than from a fighting seaman.<br> +<br> +“Here’s Cuddie Collingwood,” whispered my father.<br> +<br> +“Halloa, Lieutenant Stone!” cried the famous admiral very +cheerily. “I have scarce caught a glimpse of you since you +came aboard the <i>Excellent </i>after St. Vincent. You had the +luck to be at the Nile also, I understand?”<br> +<br> +“I was third of the <i>Theseus, </i>under Millar, sir.”<br> +<br> +“It nearly broke my heart to have missed it. I have not +yet outlived it. To think of such a gallant service, and I engaged +in harassing the market-boats, the miserable cabbage-carriers of St. +Luccars!”<br> +<br> +“Your plight was better than mine, Sir Cuthbert,” said a +voice from behind us, and a large man in the full uniform of a post-captain +took a step forward to include himself in our circle. His mastiff +face was heavy with emotion, and he shook his head miserably as he spoke.<br> +<br> +“Yes, yes, Troubridge, I can understand and sympathize with your +feelings.”<br> +<br> +“I passed through torment that night, Collingwood. It left +a mark on me that I shall never lose until I go over the ship’s +side in a canvas cover. To have my beautiful <i>Culloden </i>laid +on a sandbank just out of gunshot. To hear and see the fight the +whole night through, and never to pull a lanyard or take the tompions +out of my guns. Twice I opened my pistol-case to blow out my brains, +and it was but the thought that Nelson might have a use for me that +held me back.”<br> +<br> +Collingwood shook the hand of the unfortunate captain.<br> +<br> +“Admiral Nelson was not long in finding a use for you, Troubridge,” +said he. “We have all heard of your siege of Capua, and +how you ran up your ship’s guns without trenches or parallels, +and fired point-blank through the embrasures.”<br> +<br> +The melancholy cleared away from the massive face of the big seaman, +and his deep laughter filled the room.<br> +<br> +“I’m not clever enough or slow enough for their Z-Z fashions,” +said he. “We got alongside and slapped it in through their +port-holes until they struck their colours. But where have you +been, Sir Cuthbert?”<br> +<br> +“With my wife and my two little lasses at Morpeth in the North +Country. I have but seen them this once in ten years, and it may +be ten more, for all I know, ere I see them again. I have been +doing good work for the fleet up yonder.”<br> +<br> +“I had thought, sir, that it was inland,” said my father.<br> +<br> +Collingwood took a little black bag out of his pocket and shook it.<br> +<br> +“Inland it is,” said he, “and yet I have done good +work for the fleet there. What do you suppose I hold in this bag?”<br> +<br> +“Bullets,” said Troubridge.<br> +<br> +“Something that a sailor needs even more than that,” answered +the admiral, and turning it over he tilted a pile of acorns on to his +palm. “I carry them with me in my country walks, and where +I see a fruitful nook I thrust one deep with the end of my cane. +My oak trees may fight those rascals over the water when I am long forgotten. +Do you know, lieutenant, how many oaks go to make an eighty-gun ship?”<br> +<br> +My father shook his head.<br> +<br> +“Two thousand, no less. For every two-decked ship that carries +the white ensign there is a grove the less in England. So how +are our grandsons to beat the French if we do not give them the trees +with which to build their ships?”<br> +<br> +He replaced his bag in his pocket, and then, passing his arm through +Troubridge’s, they went through the door together.<br> +<br> +“There’s a man whose life might help you to trim your own +course,” said my father, as we took our seats at a vacant table. +“He is ever the same quiet gentleman, with his thoughts busy for +the comfort of his ship’s company, and his heart with his wife +and children whom he has so seldom seen. It is said in the fleet +that an oath has never passed his lips, Rodney, though how he managed +when he was first lieutenant of a raw crew is more than I can conceive. +But they all love Cuddie, for they know he’s an angel to fight. +How d’ye do, Captain Foley? My respects, Sir Ed’ard! +Why, if they could but press the company, they would man a corvette +with flag officers.”<br> +<br> +“There’s many a man here, Rodney,” continued my father, +as he glanced about him, “whose name may never find its way into +any book save his own ship’s log, but who in his own way has set +as fine an example as any admiral of them all. We know them, and +talk of them in the fleet, though they may never be bawled in the streets +of London. There’s as much seamanship and pluck in a good +cutter action as in a line-o’-battleship fight, though you may +not come by a title nor the thanks of Parliament for it. There’s +Hamilton, for example, the quiet, pale-faced man who is learning against +the pillar. It was he who, with six rowing-boats, cut out the +44-gun frigate <i>Hermione </i>from under the muzzles of two hundred +shore-guns in the harbour of Puerto Cabello. No finer action was +done in the whole war. There’s Jaheel Brenton, with the +whiskers. It was he who attacked twelve Spanish gunboats in his +one little brig, and made four of them strike to him. There’s +Walker, of the <i>Rose </i>cutter, who, with thirteen men, engaged three +French privateers with crews of a hundred and forty-six. He sank +one, captured one, and chased the third. How are you, Captain +Ball? I hope I see you well?”<br> +<br> +Two or three of my father’s acquaintances who had been sitting +close by drew up their chairs to us, and soon quite a circle had formed, +all talking loudly and arguing upon sea matters, shaking their long, +red-tipped pipes at each other as they spoke. My father whispered +in my ear that his neighbour was Captain Foley, of the <i>Goliath, </i>who +led the van at the Nile, and that the tall, thin, foxy-haired man opposite +was Lord Cochrane, the most dashing frigate captain in the Service. +Even at Friar’s Oak we had heard how, in the little <i>Speedy, +</i>of fourteen small guns with fifty-four men, he had carried by boarding +the Spanish frigate <i>Gamo </i>with her crew of three hundred. +It was easy to see that he was<i> </i>a quick, irascible, high-blooded +man, for he was talking hotly about his grievances with a flush of anger +upon his freckled cheeks.<br> +<br> +“We shall never do any good upon the ocean until we have hanged +the dockyard contractors,” he cried. “I’d have +a dead dockyard contractor as a figure-head for every first-rate in +the fleet, and a provision dealer for every frigate. I know them +with their puttied seams and their devil bolts, risking five hundred +lives that they may steal a few pounds’ worth of copper. +What became of the <i>Chance, </i>and of the <i>Martin, </i>and of the +<i>Orestes</i>? They foundered at sea, and were never heard of +more, and I say that the crews of them were murdered men.”<br> +<br> +Lord Cochrane seemed to be expressing the views of all, for a murmur +of assent, with a mutter of hearty, deep-sea curses, ran round the circle.<br> +<br> +“Those rascals over yonder manage things better,” said an +old one-eyed captain, with the blue-and-white riband for St. Vincent +peeping out of his third buttonhole. “They sheer away their +heads if they get up to any foolery. Did ever a vessel come out +of Toulon as my 38-gun frigate did from Plymouth last year, with her +masts rolling about until her shrouds were like iron bars on one side +and hanging in festoons upon the other? The meanest sloop that +ever sailed out of France would have overmatched her, and then it would +be on me, and not on this Devonport bungler, that a court-martial would +be called.”<br> +<br> +They loved to grumble, those old salts, for as soon as one had shot +off his grievance his neighbour would follow with another, each more +bitter than the last.<br> +<br> +“Look at our sails!” cried Captain Foley. “Put +a French and a British ship at anchor together, and how can you tell +which is which?”<br> +<br> +“Frenchy has his fore and maintop-gallant masts about equal,” +said my father.<br> +<br> +“In the old ships, maybe, but how many of the new are laid down +on the French model? No, there’s no way of telling them +at anchor. But let them hoist sail, and how d’you tell them +then?”<br> +<br> +“Frenchy has white sails,” cried several.<br> +<br> +“And ours are black and rotten. That’s the difference. +No wonder they outsail us when the wind can blow through our canvas.”<br> +<br> +“In the <i>Speedy</i>,” said Cochrane, “the sailcloth +was so thin that, when I made my observation, I always took my meridian +through the foretopsail and my horizon through the foresail.”<br> +<br> +There was a general laugh at this, and then at it they all went again, +letting off into speech all those weary broodings and silent troubles +which had rankled during long years of service, for an iron discipline +prevented them from speaking when their feet were upon their own quarter-decks. +One told of his powder, six pounds of which were needed to throw a ball +a thousand yards. Another cursed the Admiralty Courts, where a +prize goes in as a full-rigged ship and comes out as a schooner. +The old captain spoke of the promotions by Parliamentary interest which +had put many a youngster into the captain’s cabin when he should +have been in the gun-room. And then they came back to the difficulty +of finding crews for their vessels, and they all together raised up +their voices and wailed.<br> +<br> +“What is the use of building fresh ships,” cried Foley, +“when even with a ten-pound bounty you can’t man the ships +that you have got?”<br> +<br> +But Lord Cochrane was on the other side in this question.<br> +<br> +“You’d have the men, sir, if you treated them well when +you got them,” said he. “Admiral Nelson can get his +ships manned. So can Admiral Collingwood. Why? Because +he has thought for the men, and so the men have thought for him. +Let men and officers know and respect each other, and there’s +no difficulty in keeping a ship’s company. It’s the +infernal plan of turning a crew over from ship to ship and leaving the +officers behind that rots the Navy. But I have never found a difficulty, +and I dare swear that if I hoist my pennant to-morrow I shall have all +my old <i>Speedies </i>back, and as many volunteers as I care to take.”<br> +<br> +“That is very well, my lord,” said the old captain, with +some warmth; “when the Jacks hear that the <i>Speedy </i>took +fifty vessels in thirteen months, they are sure to volunteer to serve +with her commander. Every good cruiser can fill her complement +quickly enough. But it is not the cruisers that fight the country’s +battles and blockade the enemy’s ports. I say that all prize-money +should be divided equally among the whole fleet, and until you have +such a rule, the smartest men will always be found where they are of +least service to any one but themselves.”<br> +<br> +This speech produced a chorus of protests from the cruiser officers +and a hearty agreement from the line-of-battleship men, who seemed to +be in the majority in the circle which had gathered round. From +the flushed faces and angry glances it was evident that the question +was one upon which there was strong feeling upon both sides.<br> +<br> +“What the cruiser gets the cruiser earns,” cried a frigate +captain.<br> +<br> +“Do you mean to say, sir,” said Captain Foley, “that +the duties of an officer upon a cruiser demand more care or higher professional +ability than those of one who is employed upon blockade service, with +a lee coast under him whenever the wind shifts to the west, and the +topmasts of an enemy’s squadron for ever in his sight?”<br> +<br> +“I do not claim higher ability, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Then why should you claim higher pay? Can you deny that +a seaman before the mast makes more in a fast frigate than a lieutenant +can in a battleship?”<br> +<br> +“It was only last year,” said a very gentlemanly-looking +officer, who might have passed for a buck upon town had his skin not +been burned to copper in such sunshine as never bursts upon London - +“it was only last year that I brought the old <i>Alexander </i>back +from the Mediterranean, floating like an empty barrel and carrying nothing +but honour for her cargo. In the Channel we fell in with the frigate +<i>Minerva </i>from the Western Ocean, with her lee ports under water +and her hatches bursting with the plunder which had been too valuable +to trust to the prize crews. She had ingots of silver along her +yards and bowsprit, and a bit of silver plate at the truck of the masts. +My Jacks could have fired into her, and would, too, if they had not +been held back. It made them mad to think of all they had done +in the south, and then to see this saucy frigate flashing her money +before their eyes.”<br> +<br> +“I cannot see their grievance, Captain Ball,” said Cochrane.<br> +<br> +“When you are promoted to a two-decker, my lord, it will possibly +become clearer to you.”<br> +<br> +“You speak as if a cruiser had nothing to do but take prizes. +If that is your view, you will permit me to say that you know very little +of the matter. I have handled a sloop, a corvette, and a frigate, +and I have found a great variety of duties in each of them. I +have had to avoid the enemy’s battleships and to fight his cruisers. +I have had to chase and capture his privateers, and to cut them out +when they run under his batteries. I have had to engage his forts, +to take my men ashore, and to destroy his guns and his signal stations. +All this, with convoying, reconnoitring, and risking one’s own +ship in order to gain a knowledge of the enemy’s movements, comes +under the duties of the commander of a cruiser. I make bold to +say that the man who can carry these objects out with success has deserved +better of the country than the officer of a battleship, tacking from +Ushant to the Black Rocks and back again until she builds up a reef +with her beef-bones.”<br> +<br> +“Sir,” said the angry old sailor, “such an officer +is at least in no danger of being mistaken for a privateersman.”<br> +<br> +“I am surprised, Captain Bulkeley,” Cochran retorted hotly, +“that you should venture to couple the names of privateersman +and King’s officer.”<br> +<br> +There was mischief brewing among these hot-headed, short-spoken salts, +but Captain Foley changed the subject to discuss the new ships which +were being built in the French ports. It was of interest to me +to hear these men, who were spending their lives in fighting against +our neighbours, discussing their character and ways. You cannot +conceive - you who live in times of peace and charity - how fierce the +hatred was in England at that time against the French, and above all +against their great leader. It was more than a mere prejudice +or dislike. It was a deep, aggressive loathing of which you may +even now form some conception if you examine the papers or caricatures +of the day. The word “Frenchman” was hardly spoken +without “rascal” or “scoundrel” slipping in +before it. In all ranks of life and in every part of the country +the feeling was the same. Even the Jacks aboard our ships fought +with a viciousness against a French vessel which they would never show +to Dane, Dutchman, or Spaniard.<br> +<br> +If you ask me now, after fifty years, why it was that there should have +been this virulent feeling against them, so foreign to the easy-going +and tolerant British nature, I would confess that I think the real reason +was fear. Not fear of them individually, of course - our foulest +detractors have never called us faint-hearted - but fear of their star, +fear of their future, fear of the subtle brain whose plans always seemed +to go aright, and of the heavy hand which had struck nation after nation +to the ground. We were but a small country, with a population +which, when the war began, was not much more than half that of France. +And then, France had increased by leaps and bounds, reaching out to +the north into Belgium and Holland, and to the south into Italy, whilst +we were weakened by deep-lying disaffection among both Catholics and +Presbyterians in Ireland. The danger was imminent and plain to +the least thoughtful. One could not walk the Kent coast without +seeing the beacons heaped up to tell the country of the enemy’s +landing, and if the sun were shining on the uplands near Boulogne, one +might catch the flash of its gleam upon the bayonets of manoeuvring +veterans. No wonder that a fear of the French power lay deeply +in the hearts of the most gallant men, and that fear should, as it always +does, beget a bitter and rancorous hatred.<br> +<br> +The seamen did not speak kindly then of their recent enemies. +Their hearts loathed them, and in the fashion of our country their lips +said what the heart felt. Of the French officers they could not +have spoken with more chivalry, as of worthy foemen, but the nation +was an abomination to them. The older men had fought against them +in the American War, they had fought again for the last ten years, and +the dearest wish of their hearts seemed to be that they might be called +upon to do the same for the remainder of their days. Yet if I +was surprised by the virulence of their animosity against the French, +I was even more so to hear how highly they rated them as antagonists. +The long succession of British victories which had finally made the +French take to their ports and resign the struggle in despair had given +all of us the idea that for some reason a Briton on the water must, +in the nature of things, always have the best of it against a Frenchman. +But these men who had done the fighting did not think so. They +were loud in their praise of their foemen’s gallantry, and precise +in their reasons for his defeat. They showed how the officers +of the old French Navy had nearly all been aristocrats. How the +Revolution had swept them out of their ships, and the force been left +with insubordinate seamen and no competent leaders. This ill-directed +fleet had been hustled into port by the pressure of the well-manned +and well-commanded British, who had pinned them there ever since, so +that they had never had an opportunity of learning seamanship. +Their harbour drill and their harbour gunnery had been of no service +when sails had to be trimmed and broadsides fired on the heave of an +Atlantic swell. Let one of their frigates get to sea and have +a couple of years’ free run in which the crew might learn their +duties, and then it would be a feather in the cap of a British officer +if with a ship of equal force he could bring down her colours.<br> +<br> +Such were the views of these experienced officers, fortified by many +reminiscences and examples of French gallantry, such as the way in which +the crew of the <i>L’Orient </i>had fought her quarter-deck guns +when the main-deck was in a blaze beneath them, and when they must have +known that they were standing over an exploding magazine. The +general hope was that the West Indian expedition since the peace might +have given many of their fleet an ocean training, and that they might +be tempted out into mid-Channel if the war were to break out afresh. +But would it break out afresh? We had spent gigantic sums and +made enormous exertions to curb the power of Napoleon and to prevent +him from becoming the universal despot of Europe. Would the Government +try it again? Or were they appalled by the gigantic load of debt +which must bend the backs of many generations unborn? Pitt was +there, and surely he was not a man to leave his work half done.<br> +<br> +And then suddenly there was a bustle at the door. Amid the grey +swirl of the tobacco-smoke I could catch a glimpse of a blue coat and +gold epaulettes, with a crowd gathering thickly round them, while a +hoarse murmur rose from the group which thickened into a deep-chested +cheer. Every one was on his feet, peering and asking each other +what it might mean. And still the crowd seethed and the cheering +swelled.<br> +<br> +“What is it? What has happened?” cried a score of +voices.<br> +<br> +“Put him up! Hoist him up!” shouted somebody, and +an instant later I saw Captain Troubridge appear above the shoulders +of the crowd. His face was flushed, as if he were in wine, and +he was waving what seemed to be a letter in the air. The cheering +died away, and there was such a hush that I could hear the crackle of +the paper in his hand.<br> +<br> +“Great news, gentlemen!” he roared. “Glorious +news! Rear-Admiral Collingwood has directed me to communicate +it to you. The French Ambassador has received his papers to-night. +Every ship on the list is to go into commission. Admiral Cornwallis +is ordered out of Cawsand Bay to cruise off Ushant. A squadron +is starting for the North Sea and another for the Irish Channel.”<br> +<br> +He may have had more to say, but his audience could wait no longer. +How they shouted and stamped and raved in their delight! Harsh +old flag-officers, grave post-captains, young lieutenants, all were +roaring like schoolboys breaking up for the holidays. There was +no thought now of those manifold and weary grievances to which I had +listened. The foul weather was passed, and the landlocked sea-birds +would be out on the foam once more. The rhythm of “God Save +the King” swelled through the babel, and I heard the old lines +sung in a way that made you forget their bad rhymes and their bald sentiments. +I trust that you will never hear them so sung, with tears upon rugged +cheeks, and catchings of the breath from strong men. Dark days +will have come again before you hear such a song or see such a sight +as that. Let those talk of the phlegm of our countrymen who have +never seen them when the lava crust of restraint is broken, and when +for an instant the strong, enduring fires of the North glow upon the +surface. I saw them then, and if I do not see them now, I am not +so old or so foolish as to doubt that they are there.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIII - LORD NELSON<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My father’s appointment with Lord Nelson was an early one, and +he was the more anxious to be punctual as he knew how much the Admiral’s +movements must be affected by the news which we had heard the night +before. I had hardly breakfasted then, and my uncle had not rung +for his chocolate, when he called for me at Jermyn Street. A walk +of a few hundred yards brought us to the high building of discoloured +brick in Piccadilly, which served the Hamiltons as a town house, and +which Nelson used as his head-quarters when business or pleasure called +him from Merton. A footman answered our knock, and we were ushered +into a large drawing-room with sombre furniture and melancholy curtains. +My father sent in his name, and there we sat, looking at the white Italian +statuettes in the corners, and the picture of Vesuvius and the Bay of +Naples which hung over the harpsichord. I can remember that a +black clock was ticking loudly upon the mantelpiece, and that every +now and then, amid the rumble of the hackney coaches, we could hear +boisterous laughter from some inner chamber.<br> +<br> +When at last the door opened, both my father and I sprang to our feet, +expecting to find ourselves face to face with the greatest living Englishman. +It was a very different person, however, who swept into the room.<br> +<br> +She was a lady, tall, and, as it seemed to me, exceedingly beautiful, +though, perhaps, one who was more experienced and more critical might +have thought that her charm lay in the past rather than the present. +Her queenly figure was moulded upon large and noble lines, while her +face, though already tending to become somewhat heavy and coarse, was +still remarkable for the brilliancy of the complexion, the beauty of +the large, light blue eyes, and the tinge of the dark hair which curled +over the low white forehead. She carried herself in the most stately +fashion, so that as I looked at her majestic entrance, and at the pose +which she struck as she glanced at my father, I was reminded of the +Queen of the Peruvians as, in the person of Miss Polly Hinton, she incited +Boy Jim and myself to insurrection.<br> +<br> +“Lieutenant Anson Stone?” she asked.<br> +<br> +“Yes, your ladyship,” answered my father.<br> +<br> +“Ah,” she cried, with an affected and exaggerated start, +“you know me, then?”<br> +<br> +“I have seen your ladyship at Naples.”<br> +<br> +“Then you have doubtless seen my poor Sir William also - my poor, +poor Sir William!” She touched her dress with her white, +ring-covered fingers, as if to draw our attention to the fact that she +was in the deepest mourning.<br> +<br> +“I heard of your ladyship’s sad loss,” said my father.<br> +<br> +“We died together,” she cried. “What can my +life be now save a long-drawn living death?”<br> +<br> +She spoke in a beautiful, rich voice, with the most heart-broken thrill +in it, but I could not conceal from myself that she appeared to be one +of the most robust persons that I had ever seen, and I was surprised +to notice that she shot arch little questioning glances at me, as if +the admiration even of so insignificant a person were of some interest +to her. My father, in his blunt, sailor fashion, tried to stammer +out some commonplace condolence, but her eyes swept past his rude, weather-beaten +face to ask and reask what effect she had made upon me.<br> +<br> +“There he hangs, the tutelary angel of this house,” she +cried, pointing with a grand sweeping gesture to a painting upon the +wall, which represented a very thin-faced, high-nosed gentleman with +several orders upon his coat. “But enough of my private +sorrow!” She dashed invisible tears from her eyes. +“You have come to see Lord Nelson. He bid me say that he +would be with you in an instant. You have doubtless heard that +hostilities are about to reopen?”<br> +<br> +“We heard the news last night.”<br> +<br> +“Lord Nelson is under orders to take command of the Mediterranean +Fleet. You can think at such a moment - But, ah, is it not his +lordship’s step that I hear?”<br> +<br> +My attention was so riveted by the lady’s curious manner and by +the gestures and attitudes with which she accompanied every remark, +that I did not see the great admiral enter the room. When I turned +he was standing close by my elbow, a small, brown man with the lithe, +slim figure of a boy. He was not clad in uniform, but he wore +a high-collared brown coat, with the right sleeve hanging limp and empty +by his side. The expression of his face was, as I remember it, +exceedingly sad and gentle, with the deep lines upon it which told of +the chafing of his urgent and fiery soul. One eye was disfigured +and sightless from a wound, but the other looked from my father to myself +with the quickest and shrewdest of expressions. Indeed, his whole +manner, with his short, sharp glance and the fine poise of the head, +spoke of energy and alertness, so that he reminded me, if I may compare +great things with small, of a well-bred fighting terrier, gentle and +slim, but keen and ready for whatever chance might send.<br> +<br> +“Why, Lieutenant Stone,” said he, with great cordiality, +holding out his left hand to my father, “I am very glad to see +you. London is full of Mediterranean men, but I trust that in +a week there will not be an officer amongst you all with his feet on +dry land.”<br> +<br> +“I had come to ask you, sir, if you could assist me to a ship.”<br> +<br> +“You shall have one, Stone, if my word goes for anything at the +Admiralty. I shall want all my old Nile men at my back. +I cannot promise you a first-rate, but at least it shall be a 64-gun +ship, and I can tell you that there is much to be done with a handy, +well-manned, well-found 64-gun ship.”<br> +<br> +“Who could doubt it who has heard of the <i>Agamemnon</i>?” +cried Lady Hamilton, and straightway she began to talk of the admiral +and of his doings with such extravagance of praise and such a shower +of compliments and of epithets, that my father and I did not know which +way to look, feeling shame and sorrow for a man who was compelled to +listen to such things said in his own presence. But when I ventured +to glance at Lord Nelson I found, to my surprise, that, far from showing +any embarrassment, he was smiling with pleasure, as if this gross flattery +of her ladyship’s were the dearest thing in all the world to him.<br> +<br> +“Come, come, my dear lady,” said he, “you speak vastly +beyond my merits;” upon which encouragement she started again +in a theatrical apostrophe to Britain’s darling and Neptune’s +eldest son, which he endured with the same signs of gratitude and pleasure. +That a man of the world, five-and-forty years of age, shrewd, honest, +and acquainted with Courts, should be beguiled by such crude and coarse +homage, amazed me, as it did all who knew him; but you who have seen +much of life do not need to be told how often the strongest and noblest +nature has its one inexplicable weakness, showing up the more obviously +in contrast to the rest, as the dark stain looks the fouler upon the +whitest sheet.<br> +<br> +“You are a sea-officer of my own heart, Stone,” said he, +when her ladyship had exhausted her panegyric. “You are +one of the old breed!” He walked up and down the room with +little, impatient steps as he talked, turning with a whisk upon his +heel every now and then, as if some invisible rail had brought him up. +“We are getting too fine for our work with these new-fangled epaulettes +and quarter-deck trimmings. When I joined the Service, you would +find a lieutenant gammoning and rigging his own bowsprit, or aloft, +maybe, with a marlinspike slung round his neck, showing an example to +his men. Now, it’s as much as he’ll do to carry his +own sextant up the companion. When could you join?”<br> +<br> +“To-night, my lord.”<br> +<br> +“Right, Stone, right! That is the true spirit. They +are working double tides in the yards, but I do not know when the ships +will be ready. I hoist my flag on the <i>Victory </i>on Wednesday, +and we sail at once.”<br> +<br> +“No, no; not so soon! She cannot be ready for sea,” +said Lady Hamilton, in a wailing voice, clasping her hands and turning +up her eyes as she spoke.<br> +<br> +“She must and she shall be ready,” cried Nelson, with extraordinary +vehemence. “By Heaven! if the devil stands at the door, +I sail on Wednesday. Who knows what these rascals may be doing +in my absence? It maddens me to think of the deviltries which +they may be devising. At this very instant, dear lady, the Queen, +<i>our </i>Queen, may be straining her eyes for the topsails of Nelson’s +ships.”<br> +<br> +Thinking, as I did, that he was speaking of our own old Queen Charlotte, +I could make no meaning out of this; but my father told me afterwards +that both Nelson and Lady Hamilton had conceived an extraordinary affection +for the Queen of Naples, and that it was the interests of her little +kingdom which he had so strenuously at heart. It may have been +my expression of bewilderment which attracted Nelson’s attention +to me, for he suddenly stopped in his quick quarter-deck walk, and looked +me up and down with a severe eye.<br> +<br> +“Well, young gentleman!” said he, sharply.<br> +<br> +“This is my only son, sir,” said my father. “It +is my wish that he should join the Service, if a berth can be found +for him; for we have all been King’s officers for many generations.”<br> +<br> +“So, you wish to come and have your bones broken?” cried +Nelson, roughly, looking with much disfavour at the fine clothes which +had cost my uncle and Mr. Brummel such a debate. “You will +have to change that grand coat for a tarry jacket if you serve under +me, sir.”<br> +<br> +I was so embarrassed by the abruptness of his manner that I could but +stammer out that I hoped I should do my duty, on which his stern mouth +relaxed into a good-humoured smile, and he laid his little brown hand +for an instant upon my shoulder.<br> +<br> +“I dare say that you will do very well,” said he. +“I can see that you have the stuff in you. But do not imagine +that it is a light service which you undertake, young gentleman, when +you enter His Majesty’s Navy. It is a hard profession. +You hear of the few who succeed, but what do you know of the hundreds +who never find their way? Look at my own luck! Out of 200 +who were with me in the San Juan expedition, 145 died in a single night. +I have been in 180 engagements, and I have, as you see, lost my eye +and my arm, and been sorely wounded besides. It chanced that I +came through, and here I am flying my admiral’s flag; but I remember +many a man as good as me who did not come through. Yes,” +he added, as her ladyship broke in with a voluble protest, “many +and many as good a man who has gone to the sharks or the land-crabs. +But it is a useless sailor who does not risk himself every day, and +the lives of all of us are in the hands of Him who best knows when to +claim them.”<br> +<br> +For an instant, in his earnest gaze and reverent manner, we seemed to +catch a glimpse of the deeper, truer Nelson, the man of the Eastern +counties, steeped in the virile Puritanism which sent from that district +the Ironsides to fashion England within, and the Pilgrim Fathers to +spread it without. Here was the Nelson who declared that he saw +the hand of God pressing upon the French, and who waited on his knees +in the cabin of his flag-ship while she bore down upon the enemy’s +line. There was a human tenderness, too, in his way of speaking +of his dead comrades, which made me understand why it was that he was +so beloved by all who served with him, for, iron-hard as he was as seaman +and fighter, there ran through his complex nature a sweet and un-English +power of affectionate emotion, showing itself in tears if he were moved, +and in such tender impulses as led him afterwards to ask his flag-captain +to kiss him as he lay dying in the cockpit of the <i>Victory.<br> +<br> +</i>My father had risen to depart, but the admiral, with that kindliness +which he ever showed to the young, and which had been momentarily chilled +by the unfortunate splendour of my clothes, still paced up and down +in front of us, shooting out crisp little sentences of exhortation and +advice.<br> +<br> +“It is ardour that we need in the Service, young gentleman,” +said he. “We need red-hot men who will never rest satisfied. +We had them in the Mediterranean, and we shall have them again. +There was a band of brothers! When I was asked to recommend one +for special service, I told the Admiralty they might take the names +as they came, for the same spirit animated them all. Had we taken +nineteen vessels, we should never have said it was well done while the +twentieth sailed the seas. You know how it was with us, Stone. +You are too old a Mediterranean man for me to tell you anything.”<br> +<br> +“I trust, my lord, that I shall be with you when next we meet +them,” said my father.<br> +<br> +“Meet them we shall and must. By Heaven, I shall never rest +until I have given them a shaking. The scoundrel Buonaparte wishes +to humble us. Let him try, and God help the better cause!”<br> +<br> +He spoke with such extraordinary animation that the empty sleeve flapped +about in the air, giving him the strangest appearance. Seeing +my eyes fixed upon it, he turned with a smile to my father.<br> +<br> +“I can still work my fin, Stone,” said he, putting his hand +across to the stump of his arm. “What used they to say in +the fleet about it?”<br> +<br> +“That it was a sign, sir, that it was a bad hour to cross your +hawse.”<br> +<br> +“They knew me, the rascals. You can see, young gentleman, +that not a scrap of the ardour with which I serve my country has been +shot away. Some day you may find that you are flying your own +flag, and when that time comes you may remember that my advice to an +officer is that he should have nothing to do with tame, slow measures. +Lay all your stake, and if you lose through no fault of your own, the +country will find you another stake as large. Never mind manoeuvres! +Go for them! The only manoeuvre you need is that which will place +you alongside your enemy. Always fight, and you will always be +right. Give not a thought to your own ease or your own life, for +from the day that you draw the blue coat over your back you have no +life of your own. It is the country’s, to be most freely +spent if the smallest gain can come from it. How is the wind this +morning, Stone?”<br> +<br> +“East-south-east,” my father answered, readily.<br> +<br> +“Then Cornwallis is, doubtless, keeping well up to Brest, though, +for my own part, I had rather tempt them out into the open sea.”<br> +<br> +“That is what every officer and man in the fleet would prefer, +your lordship,” said my father.<br> +<br> +“They do not love the blockading service, and it is little wonder, +since neither money nor honour is to be gained at it. You can +remember how it was in the winter months before Toulon, Stone, when +we had neither firing, wine, beef, pork, nor flour aboard the ships, +nor a spare piece of rope, canvas, or twine. We braced the old +hulks with our spare cables, and God knows there was never a Levanter +that I did not expect it to send us to the bottom. But we held +our grip all the same. Yet I fear that we do not get much credit +for it here in England, Stone, where they light the windows for a great +battle, but they do not understand that it is easier for us to fight +the Nile six times over, than to keep our station all winter in the +blockade. But I pray God that we may meet this new fleet of theirs +and settle the matter by a pell-mell battle.”<br> +<br> +“May I be with you, my lord!” said my father, earnestly. +“But we have already taken too much of your time, and so I beg +to thank you for your kindness and to wish you good morning.”<br> +<br> +“Good morning, Stone!” said Nelson. “You shall +have your ship, and if I can make this young gentleman one of my officers +it shall be done. But I gather from his dress,” he continued, +running his eye over me, “that you have been more fortunate in +prize-money than most of your comrades. For my own part, I never +did nor could turn my thoughts to money-making.”<br> +<br> +My father explained that I had been under the charge of the famous Sir +Charles Tregellis, who was my uncle, and with whom I was now residing.<br> +<br> +“Then you need no help from me,” said Nelson, with some +bitterness. “If you have either guineas or interest you +can climb over the heads of old sea-officers, though you may not know +the poop from the galley, or a carronade from a long nine. Nevertheless +- But what the deuce have we here?”<br> +<br> +The footman had suddenly precipitated himself into the room, but stood +abashed before the fierce glare of the admiral’s eye.<br> +<br> +“Your lordship told me to rush to you if it should come,” +he explained, holding out a large blue envelope.<br> +<br> +“By Heaven, it is my orders!” cried Nelson, snatching it +up and fumbling with it in his awkward, one-handed attempt to break +the seals. Lady Hamilton ran to his assistance, but no sooner +had she glanced at the paper inclosed than she burst into a shrill scream, +and throwing up her hands and her eyes, she sank backwards in a swoon. +I could not but observe, however, that her fall was very carefully executed, +and that she was fortunate enough, in spite of her insensibility, to +arrange her drapery and attitude into a graceful and classical design. +But he, the honest seaman, so incapable of deceit or affectation that +he could not suspect it in others, ran madly to the bell, shouting for +the maid, the doctor, and the smelling-salts, with incoherent words +of grief, and such passionate terms of emotion that my father thought +it more discreet to twitch me by the sleeve as a signal that we should +steal from the room. There we left him then in the dim-lit London +drawing-room, beside himself with pity for this shallow and most artificial +woman, while without, at the edge of the Piccadilly curb, there stood +the high dark berline ready to start him upon that long journey which +was to end in his chase of the French fleet over seven thousand miles +of ocean, his meeting with it, his victory, which confined Napoleon’s +ambition for ever to the land, and his death, coming, as I would it +might come to all of us, at the crowning moment of his life.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIV - ON THE ROAD<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +And now the day of the great fight began to approach. Even the +imminent outbreak of war and the renewed threats of Napoleon were secondary +things in the eyes of the sportsmen - and the sportsmen in those days +made a large half of the population. In the club of the patrician +and the plebeian gin-shop, in the coffee-house of the merchant or the +barrack of the soldier, in London or the provinces, the same question +was interesting the whole nation. Every west-country coach brought +up word of the fine condition of Crab Wilson, who had returned to his +own native air for his training, and was known to be under the immediate +care of Captain Barclay, the expert. On the other hand, although +my uncle had not yet named his man, there was no doubt amongst the public +that Jim was to be his nominee, and the report of his physique and of +his performance found him many backers. On the whole, however, +the betting was in favour of Wilson, for Bristol and the west country +stood by him to a man, whilst London opinion was divided. Three +to two were to be had on Wilson at any West End club two days before +the battle.<br> +<br> +I had twice been down to Crawley to see Jim in his training quarters, +where I found him undergoing the severe regimen which was usual. +From early dawn until nightfall he was running, jumping, striking a +bladder which swung upon a bar, or sparring with his formidable trainer. +His eyes shone and his skin glowed with exuberent health, and he was +so confident of success that my own misgivings vanished as I watched +his gallant bearing and listened to his quiet and cheerful words.<br> +<br> +“But I wonder that you should come and see me now, Rodney,” +said he, when we parted, trying to laugh as he spoke. “I +have become a bruiser and your uncle’s paid man, whilst you are +a Corinthian upon town. If you had not been the best and truest +little gentleman in the world, you would have been my patron instead +of my friend before now.”<br> +<br> +When I looked at this splendid fellow, with his high-bred, clean-cut +face, and thought of the fine qualities and gentle, generous impulses +which I knew to lie within him, it seemed so absurd that he should speak +as though my friendship towards him were a condescension, that I could +not help laughing aloud.<br> +<br> +“That is all very well, Rodney,” said he, looking hard into +my eyes. “But what does your uncle think about it?”<br> +<br> +This was a poser, and I could only answer lamely enough that, much as +I was indebted to my uncle, I had known Jim first, and that I was surely +old enough to choose my own friends.<br> +<br> +Jim’s misgivings were so far correct that my uncle did very strongly +object to any intimacy between us; but there were so many other points +in which he disapproved of my conduct, that it made the less difference. +I fear that he was already disappointed in me. I would not develop +an eccentricity, although he was good enough to point out several by +which I might “come out of the ruck,” as he expressed it, +and so catch the attention of the strange world in which he lived.<br> +<br> +“You are an active young fellow, nephew,” said he. +“Do you not think that you could engage to climb round the furniture +of an ordinary room without setting foot upon the ground? Some +little <i>tour-de-force </i>of the sort is in excellent taste. +There was a captain in the Guards who attained considerable social success +by doing it for a small wager. Lady Lieven, who is exceedingly +exigeant, used to invite him to her evenings merely that he might exhibit +it.”<br> +<br> +I had to assure him that the feat would be beyond me.<br> +<br> +“You are just a little <i>difficile</i>,” said he, shrugging +his shoulders. “As my nephew, you might have taken your +position by perpetuating my own delicacy of taste. If you had +made bad taste your enemy, the world of fashion would willingly have +looked upon you as an arbiter by virtue of your family traditions, and +you might without a struggle have stepped into the position to which +this young upstart Brummell aspires. But you have no instinct +in that direction. You are incapable of minute attention to detail. +Look at your shoes! Look at your cravat! Look at your watch-chain! +Two links are enough to show. I <i>have </i>shown three, but it +was an indiscretion. At this moment I can see no less than five +of yours. I regret it, nephew, but I do not think that you are +destined to attain that position which I have a right to expect from +my blood relation.”<br> +<br> +“I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, sir,” said I.<br> +<br> +“It is your misfortune not to have come under my influence earlier,” +said he. “I might then have moulded you so as to have satisfied +even my own aspirations. I had a younger brother whose case was +a similar one. I did what I could for him, but he would wear ribbons +in his shoes, and he publicly mistook white Burgundy for Rhine wine. +Eventually the poor fellow took to books, and lived and died in a country +vicarage. He was a good man, but he was commonplace, and there +is no place in society for commonplace people.”<br> +<br> +“Then I fear, sir, that there is none for me,” said I. +“But my father has every hope that Lord Nelson will find me a +position in the fleet. If I have been a failure in town, I am +none the less conscious of your kindness in trying to advance my interests, +and I hope that, should I receive my commission, I may be a credit to +you yet.”<br> +<br> +“It is possible that you may attain the very spot which I had +marked out for you, but by another road,” said my uncle. +“There are many men in town, such as Lord St. Vincent, Lord Hood, +and others, who move in the most respectable circles, although they +have nothing but their services in the Navy to recommend them.”<br> +<br> +It was on the afternoon of the day before the fight that this conversation +took place between my uncle and myself in the dainty sanctum of his +Jermyn-Street house. He was clad, I remember, in his flowing brocade +dressing-gown, as was his custom before he set off for his club, and +his foot was extended upon a stool - for Abernethy had just been in +to treat him for an incipient attack of the gout. It may have +been the pain, or it may have been his disappointment at my career, +but his manner was more testy than was usual with him, and I fear that +there was something of a sneer in his smile as he spoke of my deficiencies. +For my own part I was relieved at the explanation, for my father had +left London in the full conviction that a vacancy would speedily be +found for us both, and the one thing which had weighed upon my mind +was that I might have found it hard to leave my uncle without interfering +with the plans which he had formed. I was heart-weary of this +empty life, for which I was so ill-fashioned, and weary also of that +intolerant talk which would make a coterie of frivolous women and foolish +fops the central point of the universe. Something of my uncle’s +sneer may have flickered upon my lips as I heard him allude with supercilious +surprise to the presence in those sacrosanct circles of the men who +had stood between the country and destruction.<br> +<br> +“By the way, nephew,” said he, “gout or no gout, and +whether Abernethy likes it or not, we must be down at Crawley to-night. +The battle will take place upon Crawley Downs. Sir Lothian Hume +and his man are at Reigate. I have reserved beds at the George +for both of us. The crush will, it is said, exceed anything ever +known. The smell of these country inns is always most offensive +to me - <i>mais que voulez-vous</i>? Berkeley Craven was saying +in the club last night that there is not a bed within twenty miles of +Crawley which is not bespoke, and that they are charging three guineas +for the night. I hope that your young friend, if I must describe +him as such, will fulfil the promise which he has shown, for I have +rather more upon the event than I care to lose. Sir Lothian has +been plunging also - he made a single bye-bet of five thousand to three +upon Wilson in Limmer’s yesterday. From what I hear of his +affairs it will be a serious matter for him if we should pull it off. +Well, Lorimer?”<br> +<br> +“A person to see you, Sir Charles,” said the new valet.<br> +<br> +“You know that I never see any one until my dressing is complete.”<br> +<br> +“He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open the door.”<br> +<br> +“Pushed it open! What d’you mean, Lorimer? Why +didn’t you put him out?”<br> +<br> +A smile passed over the servant’s face. At the same moment +there came a deep voice from the passage.<br> +<br> +“You show me in this instant, young man, d’ye ’ear? +Let me see your master, or it’ll be the worse for you.”<br> +<br> +I thought that I had heard the voice before, but when, over the shoulder +of the valet, I caught a glimpse of a large, fleshy, bull-face, with +a flattened Michael Angelo nose in the centre of it, I knew at once +that it was my neighbour at the supper party.<br> +<br> +“It’s Warr, the prizefighter, sir,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir,” said our visitor, pushing his huge form into +the room. “It’s Bill Warr, landlord of the One Ton +public-’ouse, Jermyn Street, and the gamest man upon the list. +There’s only one thing that ever beat me, Sir Charles, and that +was my flesh, which creeps over me that amazin’ fast that I’ve +always got four stone that ’as no business there. Why, sir, +I’ve got enough to spare to make a feather-weight champion out +of. You’d ’ardly think, to look at me, that even after +Mendoza fought me I was able to jump the four-foot ropes at the ring-side +just as light as a little kiddy; but if I was to chuck my castor into +the ring now I’d never get it till the wind blew it out again, +for blow my dicky if I could climb after. My respec’s to +you, young sir, and I ’ope I see you well.”<br> +<br> +My uncle’s face had expressed considerable disgust at this invasion +of his privacy, but it was part of his position to be on good terms +with the fighting-men, so he contented himself with asking curtly what +business had brought him there. For answer the huge prizefighter +looked meaningly at the valet.<br> +<br> +“It’s important, Sir Charles, and between man and man,” +said he.<br> +<br> +“You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the matter?”<br> +<br> +The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with his arms +resting upon the back of it.<br> +<br> +“I’ve got information, Sir Charles,” said he.<br> +<br> +“Well, what is it?” cried my uncle, impatiently.<br> +<br> +“Information of value.”<br> +<br> +“Out with it, then!”<br> +<br> +“Information that’s worth money,” said Warr, and pursed +up his lips.<br> +<br> +“I see. You want to be paid for what you know?”<br> +<br> +The prizefighter smiled an affirmative.<br> +<br> +“Well, I don’t buy things on trust. You should know +me better than to try on such a game with me.”<br> +<br> +“I know you for what you are, Sir Charles, and that is a noble, +slap-up Corinthian. But if I was to use this against you, d’ye +see, it would be worth ’undreds in my pocket. But my ’eart +won’t let me do it, for Bill Warr’s always been on the side +o’ good sport and fair play. If I use it for you, then I +expect that you won’t see me the loser.”<br> +<br> +“You can do what you like,” said my uncle. “If +your news is of service to me, I shall know how to treat you.”<br> +<br> +“You can’t say fairer than that. We’ll let it +stand there, gov’nor, and you’ll do the ’andsome thing, +as you ’ave always ’ad the name for doin’. Well, +then, your man, Jim ’Arisen, fights Crab Wilson, of Gloucester, +at Crawley Down to-morrow mornin’ for a stake.”<br> +<br> +“What of that?”<br> +<br> +“Did you ’appen to know what the bettin’ was yesterday?”<br> +<br> +“It was three to two on Wilson.”<br> +<br> +“Right you are, gov’nor. Three to two was offered +in my own bar-parlour. D’you know what the bettin’ +is to-day?”<br> +<br> +“I have not been out yet.”<br> +<br> +“Then I’ll tell you. It’s seven to one against +your man.”<br> +<br> +“What?”<br> +<br> +“Seven to one, gov’nor, no less.”<br> +<br> +“You’re talking nonsense, Warr! How could the betting +change from three to two to seven to one?”<br> +<br> +“Ive been to Tom Owen’s, and I’ve been to the ’Ole +in the Wall, and I’ve been to the Waggon and ’Orses, and +you can get seven to one in any of them. There’s tons of +money being laid against your man. It’s a ’orse to +a ’en in every sportin’ ’ouse and boozin’ ken +from ’ere to Stepney.”<br> +<br> +For a moment the expression upon my uncle’s face made me realize +that this match was really a serious matter to him. Then he shrugged +his shoulders with an incredulous smile.<br> +<br> +“All the worse for the fools who give the odds,” said he. +“My man is all right. You saw him yesterday, nephew?”<br> +<br> +“He was all right yesterday, sir.”<br> +<br> +“If anything had gone wrong I should have heard.”<br> +<br> +“But perhaps,” said Warr, “it ’as not gone wrong +with ’im <i>yet</i>.”<br> +<br> +“What d’you mean?”<br> +<br> +“I’ll tell you what I mean, sir. You remember Berks? +You know that ’e ain’t to be overmuch depended on at any +time, and that ’e ’ad a grudge against your man ’cause +’e laid ’im out in the coach-’ouse. Well, last +night about ten o’clock in ’e comes into my bar, and the +three bloodiest rogues in London at ’is ’eels. There +was Red Ike, ’im that was warned off the ring ’cause ’e +fought a cross with Bittoon; and there was Fightin’ Yussef, who +would sell ’is mother for a seven-shillin’-bit; the third +was Chris McCarthy, who is a fogle-snatcher by trade, with a pitch outside +the ’Aymarket Theatre. You don’t often see four such +beauties together, and all with as much as they could carry, save only +Chris, who is too leary a cove to drink when there’s somethin’ +goin’ forward. For my part, I showed ’em into the +parlour, not ’cos they was worthy of it, but ’cos I knew +right well they would start bashin’ some of my customers, and +maybe get my license into trouble if I left ’em in the bar. +I served ’em with drink, and stayed with ’em just to see +that they didn’t lay their ’ands on the stuffed parroquet +and the pictures.<br> +<br> +“Well, gov’nor, to cut it short, they began to talk about +the fight, and they all laughed at the idea that young Jim ’Arrison +could win it - all except Chris, and e’ kept a-nudging and a-twitchin’ +at the others until Joe Berks nearly gave him a wipe across the face +for ’is trouble. I saw somethin’ was in the wind, +and it wasn’t very ’ard to guess what it was - especially +when Red Ike was ready to put up a fiver that Jim ’Arrison would +never fight at all. So I up to get another bottle of liptrap, +and I slipped round to the shutter that we pass the liquor through from +the private bar into the parlour. I drew it an inch open, and +I might ’ave been at the table with them, I could ’ear every +word that clearly.<br> +<br> +“There was Chris McCarthy growlin’ at them for not keepin’ +their tongues still, and there was Joe Berks swearin’ that ’e +would knock ’is face in if ’e dared give ’im any of +’is lip. So Chris ’e sort of argued with them, for +’e was frightened of Berks, and ’e put it to them whether +they would be fit for the job in the mornin’, and whether the +gov’nor would pay the money if ’e found they ’ad been +drinkin’ and were not to be trusted. This struck them sober, +all three, an’ Fighting Yussef asked what time they were to start. +Chris said that as long as they were at Crawley before the George shut +up they could work it. ‘It’s poor pay for a chance +of a rope,’ said Red Ike. ‘Rope be damned!’ +cried Chris, takin’ a little loaded stick out of his side pocket. +‘If three of you ’old him down and I break his arm-bone +with this, we’ve earned our money, and we don’t risk more’n +six months’ jug.’ ‘’E’ll fight,’ +said Berks. ‘Well, it’s the only fight ’e’ll +get,’ answered Chris, and that was all I ’eard of it. +This mornin’ out I went, and I found as I told you afore that +the money is goin’ on to Wilson by the ton, and that no odds are +too long for the layers. So it stands, gov’nor, and you +know what the meanin’ of it may be better than Bill Warr can tell +you.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, Warr,” said my uncle, rising. “I +am very much obliged to you for telling me this, and I will see that +you are not a loser by it. I put it down as the gossip of drunken +ruffians, but none the less you have served me vastly by calling my +attention to it. I suppose I shall see you at the Downs to-morrow?”<br> +<br> +“Mr. Jackson ’as asked me to be one o’ the beaters-out, +sir.”<br> +<br> +“Very good. I hope that we shall have a fair and good fight. +Good day to you, and thank you.”<br> +<br> +My uncle had preserved his jaunty demeanour as long as Warr was in the +room, but the door had hardly closed upon him before he turned to me +with a face which was more agitated than I had ever seen it.<br> +<br> +“We must be off for Crawley at once, nephew,” said he, ringing +the bell. “There’s not a moment to be lost. +Lorimer, order the bays to be harnessed in the curricle. Put the +toilet things in, and tell William to have it round at the door as soon +as possible.”<br> +<br> +“I’ll see to it, sir,” said I, and away I ran to the +mews in Little Ryder Street, where my uncle stabled his horses. +The groom was away, and I had to send a lad in search of him, while +with the help of the livery-man I dragged the curricle from the coach-house +and brought the two mares out of their stalls. It was half an +hour, or possibly three-quarters, before everything had been found, +and Lorimer was already waiting in Jermyn Street with the inevitable +baskets, whilst my uncle stood in the open door of his house, clad in +his long fawn-coloured driving-coat, with no sign upon his calm pale +face of the tumult of impatience which must, I was sure, be raging within.<br> +<br> +“We shall leave you, Lorimer,” said he. “We +might find it hard to get a bed for you. Keep at her head, William! +Jump in, nephew. Halloa, Warr, what is the matter now?”<br> +<br> +The prizefighter was hastening towards us as fast as his bulk would +allow.<br> +<br> +“Just one word before you go, Sir Charles,” he panted. +“I’ve just ’eard in my taproom that the four men I +spoke of left for Crawley at one o’clock.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, Warr,” said my uncle, with his foot upon the +step.<br> +<br> +“And the odds ’ave risen to ten to one.”<br> +<br> +“Let go her head, William!”<br> +<br> +“Just one more word, gov’nor. You’ll excuse +the liberty, but if I was you I’d take my pistols with me.”<br> +<br> +“Thank you; I have them.”<br> +<br> +The long thong cracked between the ears of the leader, the groom sprang +for the pavement, and Jermyn Street had changed for St. James’s, +and that again for Whitehall with a swiftness which showed that the +gallant mares were as impatient as their master. It was half-past +four by the Parliament clock as we flew on to Westminster Bridge. +There was the flash of water beneath us, and then we were between those +two long dun-coloured lines of houses which had been the avenue which +had led us to London. My uncle sat with tightened lips and a brooding +brow. We had reached Streatham before he broke the silence.<br> +<br> +“I have a good deal at stake, nephew,” said he.<br> +<br> +“So have I, sir,” I answered.<br> +<br> +“You!” he cried, in surprise.<br> +<br> +“My friend, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Ah, yes, I had forgot. You have some eccentricities, after +all, nephew. You are a faithful friend, which is a rare enough +thing in our circles. I never had but one friend of my own position, +and he - but you’ve heard me tell the story. I fear it will +be dark before we reach Crawley.”<br> +<br> +“I fear that it will.”<br> +<br> +“In that case we may be too late.”<br> +<br> +“Pray God not, sir!”<br> +<br> +“We sit behind the best cattle in England, but I fear lest we +find the roads blocked before we get to Crawley. Did you observe, +nephew, that these four villains spoke in Warr’s hearing of the +master who was behind them, and who was paying them for their infamy? +Did you not understand that they were hired to cripple my man? +Who, then, could have hired them? Who had an interest unless it +was - I know Sir Lothian Hume to be a desperate man. I know that +he has had heavy card losses at Watier’s and White’s. +I know also that he has much at stake upon this event, and that he has +plunged upon it with a rashness which made his friends think that he +had some private reason for being satisfied as to the result. +By Heaven, it all hangs together! If it should be so - !” +He relapsed into silence, but I saw the same look of cold fierceness +settle upon his features which I had marked there when he and Sir John +Lade had raced wheel to wheel down the Godstone road.<br> +<br> +The sun sank slowly towards the low Surrey hills, and the shadows crept +steadily eastwards, but the whirr of the wheels and the roar of the +hoofs never slackened. A fresh wind blew upon our faces, while +the young leaves drooped motionless from the wayside branches. +The golden edge of the sun was just sinking behind the oaks of Reigate +Hill when the dripping mares drew up before the Crown at Redhill. +The landlord, an old sportsman and ringsider, ran out to greet so well-known +a Corinthian as Sir Charles Tregellis.<br> +<br> +“You know Berks, the bruiser?” asked my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Yes, Sir Charles.”<br> +<br> +“Has he passed?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Sir Charles. It may have been about four o’clock, +though with this crowd of folk and carriages it’s hard to swear +to it. There was him, and Red Ike, and Fighting Yussef the Jew, +and another, with a good bit of blood betwixt the shafts. They’d +been driving her hard, too, for she was all in a lather.”<br> +<br> +“That’s ugly, nephew,” said my uncle, when we were +flying onwards towards Reigate. “If they drove so hard, +it looks as though they wished to get early to work.”<br> +<br> +“Jim and Belcher would surely be a match for the four of them,” +I suggested.<br> +<br> +“If Belcher were with him I should have no fear. But you +cannot tell what <i>diablerie </i>they may be up to. Let us only +find him safe and sound, and I’ll never lose sight of him until +I see him in the ring. We’ll sit up on guard with our pistols, +nephew, and I only trust that these villains may be indiscreet enough +to attempt it. But they must have been very sure of success before +they put the odds up to such a figure, and it is that which alarms me.”<br> +<br> +“But surely they have nothing to win by such villainy, sir? +If they were to hurt Jim Harrison the battle could not be fought, and +the bets would not be decided.”<br> +<br> +“So it would be in an ordinary prize-battle, nephew; and it is +fortunate that it should be so, or the rascals who infest the ring would +soon make all sport impossible. But here it is different. +On the terms of the wager I lose unless I can produce a man, within +the prescribed ages, who can beat Crab Wilson. You must remember +that I have never named my man. <i>C’est dommage, </i>but +so it is! We know who it is and so do our opponents, but the referees +and stakeholder would take no notice of that. If we complain that +Jim Harrison has been crippled, they would answer that they have no +official knowledge that Jim Harrison was our nominee. It’s +play or pay, and the villains are taking advantage of it.”<br> +<br> +My uncle’s fears as to our being blocked upon the road were only +too well founded, for after we passed Reigate there was such a procession +of every sort of vehicle, that I believe for the whole eight miles there +was not a horse whose nose was further than a few feet from the back +of the curricle or barouche in front. Every road leading from +London, as well as those from Guildford in the west and Tunbridge in +the east, had contributed their stream of four-in-hands, gigs, and mounted +sportsmen, until the whole broad Brighton highway was choked from ditch +to ditch with a laughing, singing, shouting throng, all flowing in the +same direction. No man who looked upon that motley crowd could +deny that, for good or evil, the love of the ring was confined to no +class, but was a national peculiarity, deeply seated in the English +nature, and a common heritage of the young aristocrat in his drag and +of the rough costers sitting six deep in their pony cart. There +I saw statesmen and soldiers, noblemen and lawyers, farmers and squires, +with roughs of the East End and yokels of the shires, all toiling along +with the prospect of a night of discomfort before them, on the chance +of seeing a fight which might, for all that they knew, be decided in +a single round. A more cheery and hearty set of people could not +be imagined, and the chaff flew about as thick as the dust clouds, while +at every wayside inn the landlord and the drawers would be out with +trays of foam-headed tankards to moisten those importunate throats. +The ale-drinking, the rude good-fellowship, the heartiness, the laughter +at discomforts, the craving to see the fight - all these may be set +down as vulgar and trivial by those to whom they are distasteful; but +to me, listening to the far-off and uncertain echoes of our distant +past, they seem to have been the very bones upon which much that is +most solid and virile in this ancient race was moulded.<br> +<br> +But, alas for our chance of hastening onwards! Even my uncle’s +skill could not pick a passage through that moving mass. We could +but fall into our places and be content to snail along from Reigate +to Horley and on to Povey Cross and over Lowfield Heath, while day shaded +away into twilight, and that deepened into night. At Kimberham +Bridge the carriage-lamps were all lit, and it was wonderful, where +the road curved downwards before us, to see this writhing serpent with +the golden scales crawling before us in the darkness. And then, +at last, we saw the formless mass of the huge Crawley elm looming before +us in the gloom, and there was the broad village street with the glimmer +of the cottage windows, and the high front of the old George Inn, glowing +from every door and pane and crevice, in honour of the noble company +who were to sleep within that night.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XV - FOUL PLAY<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle’s impatience would not suffer him to wait for the slow +rotation which would bring us to the door, but he flung the reins and +a crown-piece to one of the rough fellows who thronged the side-walk, +and pushing his way vigorously through the crowd, he made for the entrance. +As he came within the circle of light thrown by the windows, a whisper +ran round as to who this masterful gentleman with the pale face and +the driving-coat might be, and a lane was formed to admit us. +I had never before understood the popularity of my uncle in the sporting +world, for the folk began to huzza as we passed with cries of “Hurrah +for Buck Tregellis! Good luck to you and your man, Sir Charles! +Clear a path for a bang-up noble Corinthian!” whilst the landlord, +attracted by the shouting, came running out to greet us.<br> +<br> +“Good evening, Sir Charles!” he cried. “I hope +I see you well, sir, and I trust that you will find that your man does +credit to the George.”<br> +<br> +“How is he?” asked my uncle, quickly.<br> +<br> +“Never better, sir. Looks a picture, he does - and fit to +fight for a kingdom.”<br> +<br> +My uncle gave a sigh of relief.<br> +<br> +“Where is he?” he asked.<br> +<br> +“He’s gone to his room early, sir, seein’ that he +had some very partic’lar business to-morrow mornin’,” +said the landlord, grinning.<br> +<br> +“Where is Belcher?”<br> +<br> +“Here he is, in the bar parlour.”<br> +<br> +He opened a door as he spoke, and looking in we saw a score of well-dressed +men, some of whose faces had become familiar to me during my short West +End career, seated round a table upon which stood a steaming soup-tureen +filled with punch. At the further end, very much at his ease amongst +the aristocrats and exquisites who surrounded him, sat the Champion +of England, his superb figure thrown back in his chair, a flush upon +his handsome face, and a loose red handkerchief knotted carelessly round +his throat in the picturesque fashion which was long known by his name. +Half a century has passed since then, and I have seen my share of fine +men. Perhaps it is because I am a slight creature myself, but +it is my peculiarity that I had rather look upon a splendid man than +upon any work of Nature. Yet during all that time I have never +seen a finer man than Jim Belcher, and if I wish to match him in my +memory, I can only turn to that other Jim whose fate and fortunes I +am trying to lay before you.<br> +<br> +There was a shout of jovial greeting when my uncle’s face was +seen in the doorway.<br> +<br> +“Come in, Tregellis!” “We were expecting you!” +“There’s a devilled bladebone ordered.” “What’s +the latest from London?” “What is the meaning of the +long odds against your man?” “Have the folk gone mad?” +“What the devil is it all about?” They were all talking +at once.<br> +<br> +“Excuse me, gentlemen,” my uncle answered. “I +shall be happy to give you any information in my power a little later. +I have a matter of some slight importance to decide. Belcher, +I would have a word with you!”<br> +<br> +The Champion came out with us into the passage.<br> +<br> +“Where is your man, Belcher?”<br> +<br> +“He has gone to his room, sir. I believe that he should +have a clear twelve hours’ sleep before fighting.”<br> +<br> +“What sort of day has he had?”<br> +<br> +“I did him lightly in the matter of exercise. Clubs, dumbbells, +walking, and a half-hour with the mufflers. He’ll do us +all proud, sir, or I’m a Dutchman! But what in the world’s +amiss with the betting? If I didn’t know that he was as +straight as a line, I’d ha’ thought he was planning a cross +and laying against himself.”<br> +<br> +“It’s about that I’ve hurried down. I have good +information, Belcher, that there has been a plot to cripple him, and +that the rogues are so sure of success that they are prepared to lay +anything against his appearance.”<br> +<br> +Belcher whistled between his teeth.<br> +<br> +“I’ve seen no sign of anything of the kind, sir. No +one has been near him or had speech with him, except only your nephew +there and myself.”<br> +<br> +“Four villains, with Berks at their head, got the start of us +by several hours. It was Warr who told me.”<br> +<br> +“What Bill Warr says is straight, and what Joe Berks does is crooked. +Who were the others, sir?”<br> +<br> +“Red Ike, Fighting Yussef, and Chris McCarthy.”<br> +<br> +“A pretty gang, too! Well, sir, the lad is safe, but it +would be as well, perhaps, for one or other of us to stay in his room +with him. For my own part, as long as he’s my charge I’m +never very far away.”<br> +<br> +“It is a pity to wake him.”<br> +<br> +“He can hardly be asleep with all this racket in the house. +This way, sir, and down the passage!”<br> +<br> +We passed along the low-roofed, devious corridors of the old-fashioned +inn to the back of the house.<br> +<br> +“This is my room, sir,” said Belcher, nodding to a door +upon the right. “This one upon the left is his.” +He threw it open as he spoke. “Here’s Sir Charles +Tregellis come to see you, Jim,” said he; and then, “Good +Lord, what is the meaning of this?”<br> +<br> +The little chamber lay before us brightly illuminated by a brass lamp +which stood upon the table. The bedclothes had not been turned +down, but there was an indentation upon the counterpane which showed +that some one had lain there. One-half of the lattice window was +swinging on its hinge, and a cloth cap lying upon the table was the +only sign of the occupant. My uncle looked round him and shook +his head.<br> +<br> +“It seems that we are too late,” said he.<br> +<br> +“That’s his cap, sir. Where in the world can he have +gone to with his head bare? I thought he was safe in his bed an +hour ago. Jim! Jim!” he shouted.<br> +<br> +“He has certainly gone through the window,” cried my uncle. +“I believe these villains have enticed him out by some devilish +device of their own. Hold the lamp, nephew. Ha! I +thought so. Here are his footmarks upon the flower-bed outside.”<br> +<br> +The landlord, and one or two of the Corinthians from the bar-parlour, +had followed us to the back of the house. Some one had opened +the side door, and we found ourselves in the kitchen garden, where, +clustering upon the gravel path, we were able to hold the lamp over +the soft, newly turned earth which lay between us and the window.<br> +<br> +“That’s his footmark!” said Belcher. “He +wore his running boots this evening, and you can see the nails. +But what’s this? Some one else has been here.”<br> +<br> +“A woman!” I cried.<br> +<br> +“By Heaven, you’re right, nephew,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +Belcher gave a hearty curse.<br> +<br> +“He never had a word to say to any girl in the village. +I took partic’lar notice of that. And to think of them coming +in like this at the last moment!”<br> +<br> +“It’s clear as possible, Tregellis,” said the Hon. +Berkeley Craven, who was one of the company from the bar-parlour. +“Whoever it was came outside the window and tapped. You +see here, and here, the small feet have their toes to the house, while +the others are all leading away. She came to summon him, and he +followed her.”<br> +<br> +“That is perfectly certain,” said my uncle. “There’s +not a moment to be lost. We must divide and search in different +directions, unless we can get some clue as to where they have gone.”<br> +<br> +“There’s only the one path out of the garden,” cried +the landlord, leading the way. “It opens out into this back +lane, which leads up to the stables. The other end of the lane +goes out into the side road.”<br> +<br> +The bright yellow glare from a stable lantern cut a ring suddenly from +the darkness, and an ostler came lounging out of the yard.<br> +<br> +“Who’s that?” cried the landlord.<br> +<br> +“It’s me, master! Bill Shields.”<br> +<br> +“How long have you been there, Bill?”<br> +<br> +“Well, master, I’ve been in an’ out of the stables +this hour back. We can’t pack in another ’orse, and +there’s no use tryin’. I daren’t ’ardly +give them their feed, for, if they was to thicken out just ever so little +- ”<br> +<br> +“See here, Bill. Be careful how you answer, for a mistake +may cost you your place. Have you seen any one pass down the lane?”<br> +<br> +“There was a feller in a rabbit-skin cap some time ago. +’E was loiterin’ about until I asked ’im what ’is +business was, for I didn’t care about the looks of ’im, +or the way that ’e was peepin’ in at the windows. +I turned the stable lantern on to ’im, but ’e ducked ’is +face, an’ I could only swear to ’is red ’ead.”<br> +<br> +I cast a quick glance at my uncle, and I saw that the shadow had deepened +upon his face.<br> +<br> +“What became of him?” he asked.<br> +<br> +“’E slouched away, sir, an’ I saw the last of ’im.”<br> +<br> +“You’ve seen no one else? You didn’t, for example, +see a woman and a man pass down the lane together?”<br> +<br> +“No, sir.”<br> +<br> +“Or hear anything unusual?”<br> +<br> +“Why, now that you mention it, sir, I did ’ear somethin’; +but on a night like this, when all these London blades are in the village +- ”<br> +<br> +“What was it, then?” cried my uncle, impatiently.<br> +<br> +“Well, sir, it was a kind of a cry out yonder as if some one ’ad +got ’imself into trouble. I thought, maybe, two sparks were +fightin’, and I took no partic’lar notice.”<br> +<br> +“Where did it come from?”<br> +<br> +“From the side road, yonder.”<br> +<br> +“Was it distant?”<br> +<br> +“No, sir; I should say it didn’t come from more’n +two hundred yards.”<br> +<br> +“A single cry?”<br> +<br> +“Well, it was a kind of screech, sir, and then I ’eard somebody +drivin’ very ’ard down the road. I remember thinking +that it was strange that any one should be driving away from Crawley +on a great night like this.”<br> +<br> +My uncle seized the lantern from the fellow’s hand, and we all +trooped behind him down the lane. At the further end the road +cut it across at right angles. Down this my uncle hastened, but +his search was not a long one, for the glaring light fell suddenly upon +something which brought a groan to my lips and a bitter curse to those +of Jem Belcher. Along the white surface of the dusty highway there +was drawn a long smear of crimson, while beside this ominous stain there +lay a murderous little pocket-bludgeon, such as Warr had described in +the morning.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVI - CRAWLEY DOWNS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +All through that weary night my uncle and I, with Belcher, Berkeley +Craven, and a dozen of the Corinthians, searched the country side for +some trace of our missing man, but save for that ill-boding splash upon +the road not the slightest clue could be obtained as to what had befallen +him. No one had seen or heard anything of him, and the single +cry in the night of which the ostler told us was the only indication +of the tragedy which had taken place. In small parties we scoured +the country as far as East Grinstead and Bletchingley, and the sun had +been long over the horizon before we found ourselves back at Crawley +once more with heavy hearts and tired feet. My uncle, who had +driven to Reigate in the hope of gaining some intelligence, did not +return until past seven o’clock, and a glance at his face gave +us the same black news which he gathered from ours.<br> +<br> +We held a council round our dismal breakfast-table, to which Mr. Berkeley +Craven was invited as a man of sound wisdom and large experience in +matters of sport. Belcher was half frenzied by this sudden ending +of all the pains which he had taken in the training, and could only +rave out threats at Berks and his companions, with terrible menaces +as to what he would do when he met them. My uncle sat grave and +thoughtful, eating nothing and drumming his fingers upon the table, +while my heart was heavy within me, and I could have sunk my face into +my hands and burst into tears as I thought how powerless I was to aid +my friend. Mr. Craven, a fresh-faced, alert man of the world, +was the only one of us who seemed to preserve both his wits and his +appetite.<br> +<br> +“Let me see! The fight was to be at ten, was it not?” +he asked.<br> +<br> +“It was to be.”<br> +<br> +“I dare say it will be, too. Never say die, Tregellis! +Your man has still three hours in which to come back.”<br> +<br> +My uncle shook his head.<br> +<br> +“The villains have done their work too well for that, I fear,” +said he.<br> +<br> +“Well, now, let us reason it out,” said Berkeley Craven. +“A woman comes and she coaxes this young man out of his room. +Do you know any young woman who had an influence over him?”<br> +<br> +My uncle looked at me.<br> +<br> +“No,” said I. “I know of none.”<br> +<br> +“Well, we know that she came,” said Berkeley Craven. +“There can be no question as to that. She brought some piteous +tale, no doubt, such as a gallant young man could hardly refuse to listen +to. He fell into the trap, and allowed himself to be decoyed to +the place where these rascals were waiting for him. We may take +all that as proved, I should fancy, Tregellis.”<br> +<br> +“I see no better explanation,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Well, then, it is obviously not the interest of these men to +kill him. Warr heard them say as much. They could not make +sure, perhaps, of doing so tough a young fellow an injury which would +certainly prevent him from fighting. Even with a broken arm he +might pull the fight off, as men have done before. There was too +much money on for them to run any risks. They gave him a tap on +the head, therefore, to prevent his making too much resistance, and +they then drove him off to some farmhouse or stable, where they will +hold him a prisoner until the time for the fight is over. I warrant +that you see him before to-night as well as ever he was.”<br> +<br> +This theory sounded so reasonable that it seemed to lift a little of +the weight from my heart, but I could see that from my uncle’s +point of view it was a poor consolation.<br> +<br> +“I dare say you are right, Craven,” said he.<br> +<br> +“I am sure that I am.”<br> +<br> +“But it won’t help us to win the fight.”<br> +<br> +“That’s the point, sir,” cried Belcher. “By +the Lord, I wish they’d let me take his place, even with my left +arm strapped behind me.”<br> +<br> +“I should advise you in any case to go to the ringside,” +said Craven. “You should hold on until the last moment in +the hope of your man turning up.”<br> +<br> +“I shall certainly do so. And I shall protest against paying +the wagers under such circumstances.”<br> +<br> +Craven shrugged his shoulders.<br> +<br> +“You remember the conditions of the match,” said he. +“I fear it is pay or play. No doubt the point might be submitted +to the referees, but I cannot doubt that they would have to give it +against you.”<br> +<br> +We had sunk into a melancholy silence, when suddenly Belcher sprang +up from the table.<br> +<br> +“Hark!” he cried. “Listen to that!”<br> +<br> +“What is it?” we cried, all three.<br> +<br> +“The betting! Listen again!”<br> +<br> +Out of the babel of voices and roaring of wheels outside the window +a single sentence struck sharply on our ears.<br> +<br> +“Even money upon Sir Charles’s nominee!”<br> +<br> +“Even money!” cried my uncle. “It was seven +to one against me, yesterday. What is the meaning of this?”<br> +<br> +“Even money either way,” cried the voice again.<br> +<br> +“There’s somebody knows something,” said Belcher, +“and there’s nobody has a better right to know what it is +than we. Come on, sir, and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”<br> +<br> +The village street was packed with people, for they had been sleeping +twelve and fifteen in a room, whilst hundreds of gentlemen had spent +the night in their carriages. So thick was the throng that it +was no easy matter to get out of the George. A drunken man, snoring +horribly in his breathing, was curled up in the passage, absolutely +oblivious to the stream of people who flowed round and occasionally +over him.<br> +<br> +“What’s the betting, boys?” asked Belcher, from the +steps.<br> +<br> +“Even money, Jim,” cried several voices.<br> +<br> +“It was long odds on Wilson when last I heard.”<br> +<br> +“Yes; but there came a man who laid freely the other way, and +he started others taking the odds, until now you can get even money.”<br> +<br> +“Who started it?”<br> +<br> +“Why, that’s he! The man that lies drunk in the passage. +He’s been pouring it down like water ever since he drove in at +six o’clock, so it’s no wonder he’s like that.”<br> +<br> +Belcher stooped down and turned over the man’s inert head so as +to show his features.<br> +<br> +“He’s a stranger to me, sir.”<br> +<br> +“And to me,” added my uncle.<br> +<br> +“But not to me,” I cried. “It’s John Cumming, +the landlord of the inn at Friar’s Oak. I’ve known +him ever since I was a boy, and I can’t be mistaken.”<br> +<br> +“Well, what the devil can <i>he </i>know about it?” said +Craven.<br> +<br> +“Nothing at all, in all probability,” answered my uncle. +“He is backing young Jim because he knows him, and because he +has more brandy than sense. His drunken confidence set others +to do the same, and so the odds came down.”<br> +<br> +“He was as sober as a judge when he drove in here this morning,” +said the landlord. “He began backing Sir Charles’s +nominee from the moment he arrived. Some of the other boys took +the office from him, and they very soon brought the odds down amongst +them.”<br> +<br> +“I wish he had not brought himself down as well,” said my +uncle. “I beg that you will bring me a little lavender water, +landlord, for the smell of this crowd is appalling. I suppose +you could not get any sense from this drunken fellow, nephew, or find +out what it is he knows.”<br> +<br> +It was in vain that I rocked him by the shoulder and shouted his name +in his ear. Nothing could break in upon that serene intoxication.<br> +<br> +“Well, it’s a unique situation as far as my experience goes,” +said Berkeley Craven. “Here we are within a couple of hours +of the fight, and yet you don’t know whether you have a man to +represent you. I hope you don’t stand to lose very much, +Tregellis.”<br> +<br> +My uncle shrugged his shoulders carelessly, and took a pinch of his +snuff with that inimitable sweeping gesture which no man has ever ventured +to imitate.<br> +<br> +“Pretty well, my boy!” said he. “But it is time +that we thought of going up to the Downs. This night journey has +left me just a little <i>effleuré</i>, and I should like half +an hour of privacy to arrange my toilet. If this is my last kick, +it shall at least be with a well-brushed boot.”<br> +<br> +I have heard a traveller from the wilds of America say that he looked +upon the Red Indian and the English gentleman as closely akin, citing +the passion for sport, the aloofness and the suppression of the emotions +in each. I thought of his words as I watched my uncle that morning, +for I believe that no victim tied to the stake could have had a worse +outlook before him. It was not merely that his own fortunes were +largely at stake, but it was the dreadful position in which he would +stand before this immense concourse of people, many of whom had put +their money upon his judgment, if he should find himself at the last +moment with an impotent excuse instead of a champion to put before them. +What a situation for a man who prided himself upon his aplomb, and upon +bringing all that he undertook to the very highest standard of success! +I, who knew him well, could tell from his wan cheeks and his restless +fingers that he was at his wit’s ends what to do; but no stranger +who observed his jaunty bearing, the flecking of his laced handkerchief, +the handling of his quizzing glass, or the shooting of his ruffles, +would ever have thought that this butterfly creature could have had +a care upon earth.<br> +<br> +It was close upon nine o’clock when we were ready to start for +the Downs, and by that time my uncle’s curricle was almost the +only vehicle left in the village street. The night before they +had lain with their wheels interlocking and their shafts under each +other’s bodies, as thick as they could fit, from the old church +to the Crawley Elm, spanning the road five-deep for a good half-mile +in length. Now the grey village street lay before us almost deserted +save by a few women and children. Men, horses, carriages - all +were gone. My uncle drew on his driving-gloves and arranged his +costume with punctilious neatness; but I observed that he glanced up +and down the road with a haggard and yet expectant eye before he took +his seat. I sat behind with Belcher, while the Hon. Berkeley Craven +took the place beside him.<br> +<br> +The road from Crawley curves gently upwards to the upland heather-clad +plateau which extends for many miles in every direction. Strings +of pedestrians, most of them so weary and dust-covered that it was evident +that they had walked the thirty miles from London during the night, +were plodding along by the sides of the road or trailing over the long +mottled slopes of the moorland. A horseman, fantastically dressed +in green and splendidly mounted, was waiting at the crossroads, and +as he spurred towards us I recognised the dark, handsome face and bold +black eyes of Mendoza.<br> +<br> +“I am waiting here to give the office, Sir Charles,” said +he. “It’s down the Grinstead road, half a mile to +the left.”<br> +<br> +“Very good,” said my uncle, reining his mares round into +the cross-road.<br> +<br> +“You haven’t got your man there,” remarked Mendoza, +with something of suspicion in his manner.<br> +<br> +“What the devil is that to you?” cried Belcher, furiously.<br> +<br> +“It’s a good deal to all of us, for there are some funny +stories about.”<br> +<br> +“You keep them to yourself, then, or you may wish you had never +heard them.”<br> +<br> +“All right, Jem! Your breakfast don’t seem to have +agreed with you this morning.”<br> +<br> +“Have the others arrived?” asked my uncle, carelessly.<br> +<br> +“Not yet, Sir Charles. But Tom Oliver is there with the +ropes and stakes. Jackson drove by just now, and most of the ring-keepers +are up.”<br> +<br> +“We have still an hour,” remarked my uncle, as he drove +on. “It is possible that the others may be late, since they +have to come from Reigate.”<br> +<br> +“You take it like a man, Tregellis,” said Craven. +“We must keep a bold face and brazen it out until the last moment.”<br> +<br> +“Of course, sir,” cried Belcher. “I’ll +never believe the betting would rise like that if somebody didn’t +know something. We’ll hold on by our teeth and nails, Sir +Charles, and see what comes of it.”<br> +<br> +We could hear a sound like the waves upon the beach, long before we +came in sight of that mighty multitude, and then at last, on a sudden +dip of the road, we saw it lying before us, a whirlpool of humanity +with an open vortex in the centre. All round, the thousands of +carriages and horses were dotted over the moor, and the slopes were +gay with tents and booths. A spot had been chosen for the ring, +where a great basin had been hollowed out in the ground, so that all +round that natural amphitheatre a crowd of thirty thousand people could +see very well what was going on in the centre. As we drove up +a buzz of greeting came from the people upon the fringe which was nearest +to us, spreading and spreading, until the whole multitude had joined +in the acclamation. Then an instant later a second shout broke +forth, beginning from the other side of the arena, and the faces which +had been turned towards us whisked round, so that in a twinkling the +whole foreground changed from white to dark.<br> +<br> +“It’s they. They are in time,” said my uncle +and Craven together.<br> +<br> +Standing up on our curricle, we could see the cavalcade approaching +over the Downs. In front came a huge yellow barouche, in which +sat Sir Lothian Hume, Crab Wilson, and Captain Barclay, his trainer. +The postillions were flying canary-yellow ribands from their caps, those +being the colours under which Wilson was to fight. Behind the +carriage there rode a hundred or more noblemen and gentlemen of the +west country, and then a line of gigs, tilburies, and carriages wound +away down the Grinstead road as far as our eyes could follow it. +The big barouche came lumbering over the sward in our direction until +Sir Lothian Hume caught sight of us, when he shouted to his postillions +to pull up.<br> +<br> +“Good morning, Sir Charles,” said he, springing out of the +carriage. “I thought I knew your scarlet curricle. +We have an excellent morning for the battle.”<br> +<br> +My uncle bowed coldly, and made no answer.<br> +<br> +“I suppose that since we are all here we may begin at once,” +said Sir Lothian, taking no notice of the other’s manner.<br> +<br> +“We begin at ten o’clock. Not an instant before.”<br> +<br> +“Very good, if you prefer it. By the way, Sir Charles, where +is your man?”<br> +<br> +“I would ask <i>you </i>that question, Sir Lothian,” answered +my uncle. “Where is my man?”<br> +<br> +A look of astonishment passed over Sir Lothian’s features, which, +if it were not real, was most admirably affected.<br> +<br> +“What do you mean by asking me such a question?”<br> +<br> +“Because I wish to know.”<br> +<br> +“But how can I tell, and what business is it of mine?”<br> +<br> +“I have reason to believe that you have made it your business.”<br> +<br> +“If you would kindly put the matter a little more clearly there +would be some possibility of my understanding you.”<br> +<br> +They were both very white and cold, formal and unimpassioned in their +bearing, but exchanging glances which crossed like rapier blades. +I thought of Sir Lothian’s murderous repute as a duellist, and +I trembled for my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a grievance against me, +you will oblige me vastly by putting it into words.”<br> +<br> +“I will,” said my uncle. “There has been a conspiracy +to maim or kidnap my man, and I have every reason to believe that you +are privy to it.”<br> +<br> +An ugly sneer came over Sir Lothian’s saturnine face.<br> +<br> +“I see,” said he. “Your man has not come on +quite as well as you had expected in his training, and you are hard +put to it to invent an excuse. Still, I should have thought that +you might have found a more probable one, and one which would entail +less serious consequences.”<br> +<br> +“Sir,” answered my uncle, “you are a liar, but how +great a liar you are nobody knows save yourself.”<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian’s hollow cheeks grew white with passion, and I saw +for an instant in his deep-set eyes such a glare as comes from the frenzied +hound rearing and ramping at the end of its chain. Then, with +an effort, he became the same cold, hard, self-contained man as ever.<br> +<br> +“It does not become our position to quarrel like two yokels at +a fair,” said he; “we shall go further into the matter afterwards.”<br> +<br> +“I promise you that we shall,” answered my uncle, grimly.<br> +<br> +“Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of your wager. Unless +you produce your nominee within five-and-twenty minutes, I claim the +match.”<br> +<br> +“Eight-and-twenty minutes,” said my uncle, looking at his +watch. “You may claim it then, but not an instant before.”<br> +<br> +He was admirable at that moment, for his manner was that of a man with +all sorts of hidden resources, so that I could hardly make myself realize +as I looked at him that our position was really as desperate as I knew +it to be. In the meantime Berkeley Craven, who had been exchanging +a few words with Sir Lothian Hume, came back to our side.<br> +<br> +“I have been asked to be sole referee in this matter,” said +he. “Does that meet with your wishes, Sir Charles?”<br> +<br> +“I should be vastly obliged to you, Craven, if you will undertake +the duties.”<br> +<br> +“And Jackson has been suggested as timekeeper.”<br> +<br> +“I could not wish a better one.”<br> +<br> +“Very good. That is settled.”<br> +<br> +In the meantime the last of the carriages had come up, and the horses +had all been picketed upon the moor. The stragglers who had dotted +the grass had closed in until the huge crowd was one unit with a single +mighty voice, which was already beginning to bellow its impatience. +Looking round, there was hardly a moving object upon the whole vast +expanse of green and purple down. A belated gig was coming at +full gallop down the road which led from the south, and a few pedestrians +were still trailing up from Crawley, but nowhere was there a sign of +the missing man.<br> +<br> +“The betting keeps up for all that,” said Belcher. +“I’ve just been to the ring-side, and it is still even.”<br> +<br> +“There’s a place for you at the outer ropes, Sir Charles,” +said Craven.<br> +<br> +“There is no sign of my man yet. I won’t come in until +he arrives.”<br> +<br> +“It is my duty to tell you that only ten minutes are left.”<br> +<br> +“I make it five,” cried Sir Lothian Hume.<br> +<br> +“That is a question which lies with the referee,” said Craven, +firmly. “My watch makes it ten minutes, and ten it must +be.”<br> +<br> +“Here’s Crab Wilson!” cried Belcher, and at the same +moment a shout like a thunderclap burst from the crowd. The west +countryman had emerged from his dressing-tent, followed by Dutch Sam +and Tom Owen, who were acting as his seconds. He was nude to the +waist, with a pair of white calico drawers, white silk stockings, and +running shoes. Round his middle was a canary-yellow sash, and +dainty little ribbons of the same colour fluttered from the sides of +his knees. He carried a high white hat in his hand, and running +down the lane which had been kept open through the crowd to allow persons +to reach the ring, he threw the hat high into the air, so that it fell +within the staked inclosure. Then with a double spring he cleared +the outer and inner line of rope, and stood with his arms folded in +the centre.<br> +<br> +I do not wonder that the people cheered. Even Belcher could not +help joining in the general shout of applause. He was certainly +a splendidly built young athlete, and one could not have wished to look +upon a finer sight as his white skin, sleek and luminous as a panther’s, +gleamed in the light of the morning sun, with a beautiful liquid rippling +of muscles at every movement. His arms were long and slingy, his +shoulders loose and yet powerful, with the downward slant which is a +surer index of power than squareness can be. He clasped his hands +behind his head, threw them aloft, and swung them backwards, and at +every movement some fresh expanse of his smooth, white skin became knobbed +and gnarled with muscles, whilst a yell of admiration and delight from +the crowd greeted each fresh exhibition. Then, folding his arms +once more, he stood like a beautiful statue waiting for his antagonist.<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian Hume had been looking impatiently at his watch, and now +he shut it with a triumphant snap.<br> +<br> +“Time’s up!” he cried. “The match is forfeit.”<br> +<br> +“Time is not up,” said Craven.<br> +<br> +“I have still five minutes.” My uncle looked round +with despairing eyes.<br> +<br> +“Only three, Tregellis!”<br> +<br> +A deep angry murmur was rising from the crowd.<br> +<br> +“It’s a cross! It’s a cross! It’s +a fake!” was the cry.<br> +<br> +“Two minutes, Tregellis!”<br> +<br> +“Where’s your man, Sir Charles? Where’s the +man that we have backed?” Flushed faces began to crane over +each other, and angry eyes glared up at us.<br> +<br> +“One more minute, Tregellis! I am very sorry, but it will +be my duty to declare it forfeit against you.”<br> +<br> +There was a sudden swirl in the crowd, a rush, a shout, and high up +in the air there spun an old black hat, floating over the heads of the +ring-siders and flickering down within the ropes.<br> +<br> +“Saved, by the Lord!” screamed Belcher.<br> +<br> +“I rather fancy,” said my uncle, calmly, “that this +must be my man.”<br> +<br> +“Too late!” cried Sir Lothian.<br> +<br> +“No,” answered the referee. “It was still twenty +seconds to the hour. The fight will now proceed.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVII - THE RING-SIDE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Out of the whole of that vast multitude I was one of the very few who +had observed whence it was that this black hat, skimming so opportunely +over the ropes, had come. I have already remarked that when we +looked around us there had been a single gig travelling very rapidly +upon the southern road. My uncle’s eyes had rested upon +it, but his attention had been drawn away by the discussion between +Sir Lothian Hume and the referee upon the question of time. For +my own part, I had been so struck by the furious manner in which these +belated travellers were approaching, that I had continued to watch them +with all sorts of vague hopes within me, which I did not dare to put +into words for fear of adding to my uncle’s disappointments. +I had just made out that the gig contained a man and a woman, when suddenly +I saw it swerve off the road, and come with a galloping horse and bounding +wheels right across the moor, crashing through the gorse bushes, and +sinking down to the hubs in the heather and bracken. As the driver +pulled up his foam-spattered horse, he threw the reins to his companion, +sprang from his seat, butted furiously into the crowd, and then an instant +afterwards up went the hat which told of his challenge and defiance.<br> +<br> +“There is no hurry now, I presume, Craven,” said my uncle, +as coolly as if this sudden effect had been carefully devised by him.<br> +<br> +“Now that your man has his hat in the ring you can take as much +time as you like, Sir Charles.”<br> +<br> +“Your friend has certainly cut it rather fine, nephew.”<br> +<br> +“It is not Jim, sir,” I whispered. “It is some +one else.”<br> +<br> +My uncle’s eyebrows betrayed his astonishment.<br> +<br> +“Some one else!” he ejaculated.<br> +<br> +“And a good man too!” roared Belcher, slapping his thigh +with a crack like a pistol-shot. “Why, blow my dickey if +it ain’t old Jack Harrison himself!”<br> +<br> +Looking down at the crowd, we had seen the head and shoulders of a powerful +and strenuous man moving slowly forward, and leaving behind him a long +V-shaped ripple upon its surface like the wake of a swimming dog. +Now, as he pushed his way through the looser fringe the head was raised, +and there was the grinning, hardy face of the smith looking up at us. +He had left his hat in the ring, and was enveloped in an overcoat with +a blue bird’s-eye handkerchief tied round his neck. As he +emerged from the throng he let his great-coat fly loose, and showed +that he was dressed in his full fighting kit - black drawers, chocolate +stockings, and white shoes.<br> +<br> +“I’m right sorry to be so late, Sir Charles,” he cried. +“I’d have been sooner, but it took me a little time to make +it all straight with the missus. I couldn’t convince her +all at once, an’ so I brought her with me, and we argued it out +on the way.”<br> +<br> +Looking at the gig, I saw that it was indeed Mrs. Harrison who was seated +in it. Sir Charles beckoned him up to the wheel of the curricle.<br> +<br> +“What in the world brings you here, Harrison?” he whispered. +“I am as glad to see you as ever I was to see a man in my life, +but I confess that I did not expect you.”<br> +<br> +“Well, sir, you heard I was coming,” said the smith.<br> +<br> +“Indeed, I did not.”<br> +<br> +“Didn’t you get a message, Sir Charles, from a man named +Cumming, landlord of the Friar’s Oak Inn? Mister Rodney +there would know him.”<br> +<br> +“We saw him dead drunk at the George.”<br> +<br> +“There, now, if I wasn’t afraid of it!” cried Harrison, +angrily. “He’s always like that when he’s excited, +and I never saw a man more off his head than he was when he heard I +was going to take this job over. He brought a bag of sovereigns +up with him to back me with.”<br> +<br> +“That’s how the betting got turned,” said my uncle. +“He found others to follow his lead, it appears.”<br> +<br> +“I was so afraid that he might get upon the drink that I made +him promise to go straight to you, sir, the very instant he should arrive. +He had a note to deliver.”<br> +<br> +“I understand that he reached the George at six, whilst I did +not return from Reigate until after seven, by which time I have no doubt +that he had drunk his message to me out of his head. But where +is your nephew Jim, and how did you come to know that you would be needed?”<br> +<br> +“It is not his fault, I promise you, that you should be left in +the lurch. As to me, I had my orders to take his place from the +only man upon earth whose word I have never disobeyed.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Harrison, who had left the +gig and approached us. “You can make the most of it this +time, for never again shall you have my Jack - not if you were to go +on your knees for him.”<br> +<br> +“She’s not a patron of sport, and that’s a fact,” +said the smith.<br> +<br> +“Sport!” she cried, with shrill contempt and anger. +“Tell me when all is over.”<br> +<br> +She hurried away, and I saw her afterwards seated amongst the bracken, +her back turned towards the multitude, and her hands over her ears, +cowering and wincing in an agony of apprehension.<br> +<br> +Whilst this hurried scene had been taking place, the crowd had become +more and more tumultuous, partly from their impatience at the delay, +and partly from their exuberant spirits at the unexpected chance of +seeing so celebrated a fighting man as Harrison. His identity +had already been noised abroad, and many an elderly connoisseur plucked +his long net-purse out of his fob, in order to put a few guineas upon +the man who would represent the school of the past against the present. +The younger men were still in favour of the west-countryman, and small +odds were to be had either way in proportion to the number of the supporters +of each in the different parts of the crowd.<br> +<br> +In the mean time Sir Lothian Hume had come bustling up to the Honourable +Berkeley Craven, who was still standing near our curricle.<br> +<br> +“I beg to lodge a formal protest against these proceedings,” +said he.<br> +<br> +“On what grounds, sir?”<br> +<br> +“Because the man produced is not the original nominee of Sir Charles +Tregellis.”<br> +<br> +“I never named one, as you are well aware,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“The betting has all been upon the understanding that young Jim +Harrison was my man’s opponent. Now, at the last moment, +he is withdrawn and another and more formidable man put into his place.”<br> +<br> +“Sir Charles Tregellis is quite within his rights,” said +Craven, firmly. “He undertook to produce a man who should +be within the age limits stipulated, and I understand that Harrison +fulfils all the conditions. You are over five-and-thirty, Harrison?”<br> +<br> +“Forty-one next month, master.”<br> +<br> +“Very good. I direct that the fight proceed.”<br> +<br> +But alas! there was one authority which was higher even than that of +the referee, and we were destined to an experience which was the prelude, +and sometimes the conclusion, also, of many an old-time fight. +Across the moor there had ridden a black-coated gentleman, with buff-topped +hunting-boots and a couple of grooms behind him, the little knot of +horsemen showing up clearly upon the curving swells and then dipping +down into the alternate hollows. Some of the more observant of +the crowd had glanced suspiciously at this advancing figure, but the +majority had not observed him at all until he reined up his horse upon +a knoll which overlooked the amphitheatre, and in a stentorian voice +announced that he represented the <i>Custos rotulorum </i>of His Majesty’s +county of Sussex, that he proclaimed this assembly to be gathered together +for an illegal purpose, and that he was commissioned to disperse it +by force, if necessary.<br> +<br> +Never before had I understood that deep-seated fear and wholesome respect +which many centuries of bludgeoning at the hands of the law had beaten +into the fierce and turbulent natives of these islands. Here was +a man with two attendants upon one side, and on the other thirty thousand +very angry and disappointed people, many of them fighters by profession, +and some from the roughest and most dangerous classes in the country. +And yet it was the single man who appealed confidently to force, whilst +the huge multitude swayed and murmured like a mutinous fierce-willed +creature brought face to face with a power against which it knew that +there was neither argument nor resistance. My uncle, however, +with Berkeley Craven, Sir John Lade, and a dozen other lords and gentlemen, +hurried across to the interrupter of the sport.<br> +<br> +“I presume that you have a warrant, sir?” said Craven.<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir, I have a warrant.”<br> +<br> +“Then I have a legal right to inspect it.”<br> +<br> +The magistrate handed him a blue paper which the little knot of gentlemen +clustered their heads over, for they were mostly magistrates themselves, +and were keenly alive to any possible flaw in the wording. At +last Craven shrugged his shoulders, and handed it back.<br> +<br> +“This seems to be correct, sir,” said he.<br> +<br> +“It is entirely correct,” answered the magistrate, affably. +“To prevent waste of your valuable time, gentlemen, I may say, +once for all, that it is my unalterable determination that no fight +shall, under any circumstances, be brought off in the county over which +I have control, and I am prepared to follow you all day in order to +prevent it.”<br> +<br> +To my inexperience this appeared to bring the whole matter to a conclusion, +but I had underrated the foresight of those who arrange these affairs, +and also the advantages which made Crawley Down so favourite a rendezvous. +There was a hurried consultation between the principals, the backers, +the referee, and the timekeeper.<br> +<br> +“It’s seven miles to Hampshire border and about two to Surrey,” +said Jackson. The famous Master of the Ring was clad in honour +of the occasion in a most resplendent scarlet coat worked in gold at +the buttonholes, a white stock, a looped hat with a broad black band, +buff knee-breeches, white silk stockings, and paste buckles - a costume +which did justice to his magnificent figure, and especially to those +famous “balustrade” calves which had helped him to be the +finest runner and jumper as well as the most formidable pugilist in +England. His hard, high-boned face, large piercing eyes, and immense +physique made him a fitting leader for that rough and tumultuous body +who had named him as their commander-in-chief.<br> +<br> +“If I might venture to offer you a word of advice,” said +the affable official, “it would be to make for the Hampshire line, +for Sir James Ford, on the Surrey border, has as great an objection +to such assemblies as I have, whilst Mr. Merridew, of Long Hall, who +is the Hampshire magistrate, has fewer scruples upon the point.”<br> +<br> +“Sir,” said my uncle, raising his hat in his most impressive +manner, “I am infinitely obliged to you. With the referee’s +permission, there is nothing for it but to shift the stakes.”<br> +<br> +In an instant a scene of the wildest animation had set in. Tom +Owen and his assistant, Fogo, with the help of the ring-keepers, plucked +up the stakes and ropes, and carried them off across country. +Crab Wilson was enveloped in great coats, and borne away in the barouche, +whilst Champion Harrison took Mr. Craven’s place in our curricle. +Then, off the huge crowd started, horsemen, vehicles, and pedestrians, +rolling slowly over the broad face of the moorland. The carriages +rocked and pitched like boats in a seaway, as they lumbered along, fifty +abreast, scrambling and lurching over everything which came in their +way. Sometimes, with a snap and a thud, one axle would come to +the ground, whilst a wheel reeled off amidst the tussocks of heather, +and roars of delight greeted the owners as they looked ruefully at the +ruin. Then as the gorse clumps grew thinner, and the sward more +level, those on foot began to run, the riders struck in their spurs, +the drivers cracked their whips, and away they all streamed in the maddest, +wildest cross-country steeplechase, the yellow barouche and the crimson +curricle, which held the two champions, leading the van.<br> +<br> +“What do you think of your chances, Harrison?” I heard my +uncle ask, as the two mares picked their way over the broken ground.<br> +<br> +“It’s my last fight, Sir Charles,” said the smith. +“You heard the missus say that if she let me off this time I was +never to ask again. I must try and make it a good one.”<br> +<br> +“But your training?”<br> +<br> +“I’m always in training, sir. I work hard from morning +to night, and I drink little else than water. I don’t think +that Captain Barclay can do much better with all his rules.”<br> +<br> +“He’s rather long in the reach for you.”<br> +<br> +“I’ve fought and beat them that were longer. If it +comes to a rally I should hold my own, and I should have the better +of him at a throw.”<br> +<br> +“It’s a match of youth against experience. Well, I +would not hedge a guinea of my money. But, unless he was acting +under force, I cannot forgive young Jim for having deserted me.”<br> +<br> +“He <i>was </i>acting under force, Sir Charles.”<br> +<br> +“You have seen him, then?”<br> +<br> +“No, master, I have not seen him.”<br> +<br> +“You know where he is?”<br> +<br> +“Well, it is not for me to say one way or the other. I can +only tell you that he could not help himself. But here’s +the beak a-comin’ for us again.”<br> +<br> +The ominous figure galloped up once more alongside of our curricle, +but this time his mission was a more amiable one.<br> +<br> +“My jurisdiction ends at that ditch, sir,” said he. +“I should fancy that you could hardly wish a better place for +a mill than the sloping field beyond. I am quite sure that no +one will interfere with you there.”<br> +<br> +His anxiety that the fight should be brought off was in such contrast +to the zeal with which he had chased us from his county, that my uncle +could not help remarking upon it.<br> +<br> +“It is not for a magistrate to wink at the breaking of the law, +sir,” he answered. “But if my colleague of Hampshire +has no scruples about its being brought off within his jurisdiction, +I should very much like to see the fight,” with which he spurred +his horse up an adjacent knoll, from which he thought that he might +gain the best view of the proceedings.<br> +<br> +And now I had a view of all those points of etiquette and curious survivals +of custom which are so recent, that we have not yet appreciated that +they may some day be as interesting to the social historian as they +then were to the sportsman. A dignity was given to the contest +by a rigid code of ceremony, just as the clash of mail-clad knights +was prefaced and adorned by the calling of the heralds and the showing +of blazoned shields. To many in those ancient days the tourney +may have seemed a bloody and brutal ordeal, but we who look at it with +ample perspective see that it was a rude but gallant preparation for +the conditions of life in an iron age. And so also, when the ring +has become as extinct as the lists, we may understand that a broader +philosophy would show that all things, which spring up so naturally +and spontaneously, have a function to fulfil, and that it is a less +evil that two men should, of their own free will, fight until they can +fight no more than that the standard of hardihood and endurance should +run the slightest risk of being lowered in a nation which depends so +largely upon the individual qualities of her citizens for her defence. +Do away with war, if the cursed thing can by any wit of man be avoided, +but until you see your way to that, have a care in meddling with those +primitive qualities to which at any moment you may have to appeal for +your own protection.<br> +<br> +Tom Owen and his singular assistant, Fogo, who combined the functions +of prize-fighter and of poet, though, fortunately for himself, he could +use his fists better than his pen, soon had the ring arranged according +to the rules then in vogue. The white wooden posts, each with +the P.C. of the pugilistic club printed upon it, were so fixed as to +leave a square of 24 feet within the roped enclosure. Outside +this ring an outer one was pitched, eight feet separating the two. +The inner was for the combatants and for their seconds, while in the +outer there were places for the referee, the timekeeper, the backers, +and a few select and fortunate individuals, of whom, through being in +my uncle’s company, I was one. Some twenty well-known prize-fighters, +including my friend Bill Warr, Black Richmond, Maddox, The Pride of +Westminster, Tom Belcher, Paddington Jones, Tough Tom Blake, Symonds +the ruffian, Tyne the tailor, and others, were stationed in the outer +ring as beaters. These fellows all wore the high white hats which +were at that time much affected by the fancy, and they were armed with +horse-whips, silver-mounted, and each bearing the P.C. monogram. +Did any one, be it East End rough or West End patrician, intrude within +the outer ropes, this corp of guardians neither argued nor expostulated, +but they fell upon the offender and laced him with their whips until +he escaped back out of the forbidden ground. Even with so formidable +a guard and such fierce measures, the beaters-out, who had to check +the forward heaves of a maddened, straining crowd, were often as exhausted +at the end of a fight as the principals themselves. In the mean +time they formed up in a line of sentinels, presenting under their row +of white hats every type of fighting face, from the fresh boyish countenances +of Tom Belcher, Jones, and the other younger recruits, to the scarred +and mutilated visages of the veteran bruisers.<br> +<br> +Whilst the business of the fixing of the stakes and the fastening of +the ropes was going forward, I from my place of vantage could hear the +talk of the crowd behind me, the front two rows of which were lying +upon the grass, the next two kneeling, and the others standing in serried +ranks all up the side of the gently sloping hill, so that each line +could just see over the shoulders of that which was in front. +There were several, and those amongst the most experienced, who took +the gloomiest view of Harrison’s chances, and it made my heart +heavy to overhear them.<br> +<br> +“It’s the old story over again,” said one. “They +won’t bear in mind that youth will be served. They only +learn wisdom when it’s knocked into them.”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay,” responded another. “That’s how +Jack Slack thrashed Boughton, and I myself saw Hooper, the tinman, beat +to pieces by the fighting oilman. They all come to it in time, +and now it’s Harrison’s turn.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t you be so sure about that!” cried a third. +“I’ve seen Jack Harrison fight five times, and I never yet +saw him have the worse of it. He’s a slaughterer, and so +I tell you.”<br> +<br> +“He was, you mean.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I don’t see no such difference as all that comes +to, and I’m putting ten guineas on my opinion.”<br> +<br> +“Why,” said a loud, consequential man from immediately behind +me, speaking with a broad western burr, “vrom what I’ve +zeen of this young Gloucester lad, I doan’t think Harrison could +have stood bevore him for ten rounds when he vas in his prime. +I vas coming up in the Bristol coach yesterday, and the guard he told +me that he had vifteen thousand pound in hard gold in the boot that +had been zent up to back our man.”<br> +<br> +“They’ll be in luck if they see their money again,” +said another. “Harrison’s no lady’s-maid fighter, +and he’s blood to the bone. He’d have a shy at it +if his man was as big as Carlton House.”<br> +<br> +“Tut,” answered the west-countryman. “It’s +only in Bristol and Gloucester that you can get men to beat Bristol +and Gloucester.”<br> +<br> +“It’s like your damned himpudence to say so,” said +an angry voice from the throng behind him. “There are six +men in London that would hengage to walk round the best twelve that +hever came from the west.”<br> +<br> +The proceedings might have opened by an impromptu bye-battle between +the indignant cockney and the gentleman from Bristol, but a prolonged +roar of applause broke in upon their altercation. It was caused +by the appearance in the ring of Crab Wilson, followed by Dutch Sam +and Mendoza carrying the basin, sponge, brandy-bladder, and other badges +of their office. As he entered Wilson pulled the canary-yellow +handkerchief from his waist, and going to the corner post, he tied it +to the top of it, where it remained fluttering in the breeze. +He then took a bundle of smaller ribands of the same colour from his +seconds, and walking round, he offered them to the noblemen and Corinthians +at half-a-guinea apiece as souvenirs of the fight. His brisk trade +was only brought to an end by the appearance of Harrison, who climbed +in a very leisurely manner over the ropes, as befitted his more mature +years and less elastic joints. The yell which greeted him was +even more enthusiastic than that which had heralded Wilson, and there +was a louder ring of admiration in it, for the crowd had already had +their opportunity of seeing Wilson’s physique, whilst Harrison’s +was a surprise to them.<br> +<br> +I had often looked upon the mighty arms and neck of the smith, but I +had never before seen him stripped to the waist, or understood the marvellous +symmetry of development which had made him in his youth the favourite +model of the London sculptors. There was none of that white sleek +skin and shimmering play of sinew which made Wilson a beautiful picture, +but in its stead there was a rugged grandeur of knotted and tangled +muscle, as though the roots of some old tree were writhing from breast +to shoulder, and from shoulder to elbow. Even in repose the sun +threw shadows from the curves of his skin, but when he exerted himself +every muscle bunched itself up, distinct and hard, breaking his whole +trunk into gnarled knots of sinew. His skin, on face and body, +was darker and harsher than that of his youthful antagonist, but he +looked tougher and harder, an effect which was increased by the sombre +colour of his stockings and breeches. He entered the ring, sucking +a lemon, with Jim Belcher and Caleb Baldwin, the coster, at his heels. +Strolling across to the post, he tied his blue bird’s-eye handkerchief +over the west-countryman’s yellow, and then walked to his opponent +with his hand out.<br> +<br> +“I hope I see you well, Wilson,” said he.<br> +<br> +“Pretty tidy, I thank you,” answered the other. “We’ll +speak to each other in a different vashion, I ’spects, afore we +part.”<br> +<br> +“But no ill-feeling,” said the smith, and the two fighting +men grinned at each other as they took their own corners.<br> +<br> +“May I ask, Mr. Referee, whether these two men have been weighed?” +asked Sir Lothian Hume, standing up in the outer ring.<br> +<br> +“Their weight has just been taken under my supervision, sir,” +answered Mr. Craven. “Your man brought the scale down at +thirteen-three, and Harrison at thirteen-eight.”<br> +<br> +“He’s a fifteen-stoner from the loins upwards,” cried +Dutch Sam, from his corner.<br> +<br> +“We’ll get some of it off him before we finish.”<br> +<br> +“You’ll get more off him than ever you bargained for,” +answered Jim Belcher, and the crowd laughed at the rough chaff.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVIII - THE SMITH’S LAST BATTLE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +“Clear the outer ring!” cried Jackson, standing up beside +the ropes with a big silver watch in his hand.<br> +<br> +“Ss-whack! ss-whack! ss-whack!” went the horse-whips - for +a number of the spectators, either driven onwards by the pressure behind +or willing to risk some physical pain on the chance of getting a better +view, had crept under the ropes and formed a ragged fringe within the +outer ring. Now, amidst roars of laughter from the crowd and a +shower of blows from the beaters-out, they dived madly back, with the +ungainly haste of frightened sheep blundering through a gap in their +hurdles. Their case was a hard one, for the folk in front refused +to yield an inch of their places - but the arguments from the rear prevailed +over everything else, and presently every frantic fugitive had been +absorbed, whilst the beaters-out took their stands along the edge at +regular intervals, with their whips held down by their thighs.<br> +<br> +“Gentlemen,” cried Jackson, again, “I am requested +to inform you that Sir Charles Tregellis’s nominee is Jack Harrison, +fighting at thirteen-eight, and Sir Lothian Hume’s is Crab Wilson, +at thirteen-three. No person can be allowed at the inner ropes +save the referee and the timekeeper. I have only to beg that, +if the occasion should require it, you will all give me your assistance +to keep the ground clear, to prevent confusion, and to have a fair fight. +All ready?”<br> +<br> +“All ready!” from both corners.<br> +<br> +“Time!”<br> +<br> +There was a breathless hush as Harrison, Wilson, Belcher, and Dutch +Sam walked very briskly into the centre of the ring. The two men +shook hands, whilst their seconds did the same, the four hands crossing +each other. Then the seconds dropped back, and the two champions +stood toe to toe, with their hands up.<br> +<br> +It was a magnificent sight to any one who had not lost his sense of +appreciation of the noblest of all the works of Nature. Both men +fulfilled that requisite of the powerful athlete that they should look +larger without their clothes than with them. In ring slang, they +buffed well. And each showed up the other’s points on account +of the extreme contrast between them: the long, loose-limbed, deer-footed +youngster, and the square-set, rugged veteran with his trunk like the +stump of an oak. The betting began to rise upon the younger man +from the instant that they were put face to face, for his advantages +were obvious, whilst those qualities which had brought Harrison to the +top in his youth were only a memory in the minds of the older men. +All could see the three inches extra of height and two of reach which +Wilson possessed, and a glance at the quick, cat-like motions of his +feet, and the perfect poise of his body upon his legs, showed how swiftly +he could spring either in or out from his slower adversary. But +it took a subtler insight to read the grim smile which flickered over +the smith’s mouth, or the smouldering fire which shone in his +grey eyes, and it was only the old-timers who knew that, with his mighty +heart and his iron frame, he was a perilous man to lay odds against.<br> +<br> +Wilson stood in the position from which he had derived his nickname, +his left hand and left foot well to the front, his body sloped very +far back from his loins, and his guard thrown across his chest, but +held well forward in a way which made him exceedingly hard to get at. +The smith, on the other hand, assumed the obsolete attitude which Humphries +and Mendoza introduced, but which had not for ten years been seen in +a first-class battle. Both his knees were slightly bent, he stood +square to his opponent, and his two big brown fists were held over his +mark so that he could lead equally with either. Wilson’s +hands, which moved incessantly in and out, had been stained with some +astringent juice with the purpose of preventing them from puffing, and +so great was the contrast between them and his white forearms, that +I imagined that he was wearing dark, close-fitting gloves until my uncle +explained the matter in a whisper. So they stood in a quiver of +eagerness and expectation, whilst that huge multitude hung so silently +and breathlessly upon every motion that they might have believed themselves +to be alone, man to man, in the centre of some primeval solitude.<br> +<br> +It was evident from the beginning that Crab Wilson meant to throw no +chance away, and that he would trust to his lightness of foot and quickness +of hand until he should see something of the tactics of this rough-looking +antagonist. He paced swiftly round several times, with little, +elastic, menacing steps, whilst the smith pivoted slowly to correspond. +Then, as Wilson took a backward step to induce Harrison to break his +ground and follow him, the older man grinned and shook his head.<br> +<br> +“You must come to me, lad,” said he. “I’m +too old to scamper round the ring after you. But we have the day +before us, and I’ll wait.”<br> +<br> +He may not have expected his invitation to be so promptly answered; +but in an instant, with a panther spring, the west-countryman was on +him. Smack! smack! smack! Thud! thud! The first three +were on Harrison’s face, the last two were heavy counters upon +Wilson’s body. Back danced the youngster, disengaging himself +in beautiful style, but with two angry red blotches over the lower line +of his ribs. “Blood for Wilson!” yelled the crowd, +and as the smith faced round to follow the movements of his nimble adversary, +I saw with a thrill that his chin was crimson and dripping. In +came Wilson again with a feint at the mark and a flush hit on Harrison’s +cheek; then, breaking the force of the smith’s ponderous right +counter, he brought the round to a conclusion by slipping down upon +the grass.<br> +<br> +“First knock-down for Harrison!” roared a thousand voices, +for ten times as many pounds would change hands upon the point.<br> +<br> +“I appeal to the referee!” cried Sir Lothian Hume. +“It was a slip, and not a knock-down.”<br> +<br> +“I give it a slip,” said Berkeley Craven, and the men walked +to their corners, amidst a general shout of applause for a spirited +and well-contested opening round. Harrison fumbled in his mouth +with his finger and thumb, and then with a sharp half-turn he wrenched +out a tooth, which he threw into the basin. “Quite like +old times,” said he to Belcher.<br> +<br> +“Have a care, Jack!” whispered the anxious second. +“You got rather more than you gave.”<br> +<br> +“Maybe I can carry more, too,” said he serenely, whilst +Caleb Baldwin mopped the big sponge over his face, and the shining bottom +of the tin basin ceased suddenly to glimmer through the water.<br> +<br> +I could gather from the comments of the experienced Corinthians around +me, and from the remarks of the crowd behind, that Harrison’s +chance was thought to have been lessened by this round.<br> +<br> +“I’ve seen his old faults and I haven’t seen his old +merits,” said Sir John Lade, our opponent of the Brighton Road. +“He’s as slow on his feet and with his guard as ever. +Wilson hit him as he liked.”<br> +<br> +“Wilson may hit him three times to his once, but his one is worth +Wilson’s three,” remarked my uncle. “He’s +a natural fighter and the other an excellent sparrer, but I don’t +hedge a guinea.”<br> +<br> +A sudden hush announced that the men were on their feet again, and so +skilfully had the seconds done their work, that neither looked a jot +the worse for what had passed. Wilson led viciously with his left, +but misjudged his distance, receiving a smashing counter on the mark +in reply which sent him reeling and gasping to the ropes. “Hurrah +for the old one!” yelled the mob, and my uncle laughed and nudged +Sir John Lade. The west-countryman smiled, and shook himself like +a dog from the water as with a stealthy step he came back to the centre +of the ring, where his man was still standing. Bang came Harrison’s +right upon the mark once more, but Crab broke the blow with his elbow, +and jumped laughing away. Both men were a little winded, and their +quick, high breathing, with the light patter of their feet as they danced +round each other, blended into one continuous, long-drawn sound. +Two simultaneous exchanges with the left made a clap like a pistol-shot, +and then as Harrison rushed in for a fall, Wilson slipped him, and over +went my old friend upon his face, partly from the impetus of his own +futile attack, and partly from a swinging half-arm blow which the west-countryman +brought home upon his ear as he passed.<br> +<br> +“Knock-down for Wilson,” cried the referee, and the answering +roar was like the broadside of a seventy-four. Up went hundreds +of curly brimmed Corinthian hats into the air, and the slope before +us was a bank of flushed and yelling faces. My heart was cramped +with my fears, and I winced at every blow, yet I was conscious also +of an absolute fascination, with a wild thrill of fierce joy and a certain +exultation in our common human nature which could rise above pain and +fear in its straining after the very humblest form of fame.<br> +<br> +Belcher and Baldwin had pounced upon their man, and had him up and in +his corner in an instant, but, in spite of the coolness with which the +hardy smith took his punishment, there was immense exultation amongst +the west-countrymen.<br> +<br> +“We’ve got him! He’s beat! He’s +beat!” shouted the two Jew seconds. “It’s a +hundred to a tizzy on Gloucester!”<br> +<br> +“Beat, is he?” answered Belcher. “You’ll +need to rent this field before you can beat him, for he’ll stand +a month of that kind of fly-flappin’.” He was swinging +a towel in front of Harrison as he spoke, whilst Baldwin mopped him +with the sponge.<br> +<br> +“How is it with you, Harrison?” asked my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Hearty as a buck, sir. It’s as right as the day.”<br> +<br> +The cheery answer came with so merry a ring that the clouds cleared +from my uncle’s face.<br> +<br> +“You should recommend your man to lead more, Tregellis,” +said Sir John Lade. “He’ll never win it unless he +leads.”<br> +<br> +“He knows more about the game than you or I do, Lade. I’ll +let him take his own way.”<br> +<br> +“The betting is three to one against him now,” said a gentleman, +whose grizzled moustache showed that he was an officer of the late war.<br> +<br> +“Very true, General Fitzpatrick. But you’ll observe +that it is the raw young bloods who are giving the odds, and the Sheenies +who are taking them. I still stick to my opinion.”<br> +<br> +The two men came briskly up to the scratch at the call of time, the +smith a little lumpy on one side of his head, but with the same good-humoured +and yet menacing smile upon his lips. As to Wilson, he was exactly +as he had begun in appearance, but twice I saw him close his lips sharply +as if he were in a sudden spasm of pain, and the blotches over his ribs +were darkening from scarlet to a sullen purple. He held his guard +somewhat lower to screen this vulnerable point, and he danced round +his opponent with a lightness which showed that his wind had not been +impaired by the body-blows, whilst the smith still adopted the impassive +tactics with which he had commenced.<br> +<br> +Many rumours had come up to us from the west as to Crab Wilson’s +fine science and the quickness of his hitting, but the truth surpassed +what had been expected of him. In this round and the two which +followed he showed a swiftness and accuracy which old ringsiders declared +that Mendoza in his prime had never surpassed. He was in and out +like lightning, and his blows were heard and felt rather than seen. +But Harrison still took them all with the same dogged smile, occasionally +getting in a hard body-blow in return, for his adversary’s height +and his position combined to keep his face out of danger. At the +end of the fifth round the odds were four to one, and the west-countrymen +were riotous in their exultation.<br> +<br> +“What think you now?” cried the west-countryman behind me, +and in his excitement he could get no further save to repeat over and +over again, “What think you now?” When in the sixth +round the smith was peppered twice without getting in a counter, and +had the worst of the fall as well, the fellow became inarticulate altogether, +and could only huzza wildly in his delight. Sir Lothian Hume was +smiling and nodding his head, whilst my uncle was coldly impassive, +though I was sure that his heart was as heavy as mine.<br> +<br> +“This won’t do, Tregellis,” said General Fitzpatrick. +“My money is on the old one, but the other is the finer boxer.”<br> +<br> +“My man is <i>un peu passé</i>, but he will come through +all right,” answered my uncle.<br> +<br> +I saw that both Belcher and Baldwin were looking grave, and I knew that +we must have a change of some sort, or the old tale of youth and age +would be told once more.<br> +<br> +The seventh round, however, showed the reserve strength of the hardy +old fighter, and lengthened the faces of those layers of odds who had +imagined that the fight was practically over, and that a few finishing +rounds would have given the smith his <i>coup-de-grâce</i>. +It was clear when the two men faced each other that Wilson had made +himself up for mischief, and meant to force the fighting and maintain +the lead which he had gained, but that grey gleam was not quenched yet +in the veteran’s eyes, and still the same smile played over his +grim face. He had become more jaunty, too, in the swing of his +shoulders and the poise of his head, and it brought my confidence back +to see the brisk way in which he squared up to his man.<br> +<br> +Wilson led with his left, but was short, and he only just avoided a +dangerous right-hander which whistled in at his ribs. “Bravo, +old ’un, one of those will be a dose of laudanum if you get it +home,” cried Belcher. There was a pause of shuffling feet +and hard breathing, broken by the thud of a tremendous body blow from +Wilson, which the smith stopped with the utmost coolness. Then +again a few seconds of silent tension, when Wilson led viciously at +the head, but Harrison took it on his forearm, smiling and nodding at +his opponent. “Get the pepper-box open!” yelled Mendoza, +and Wilson sprang in to carry out his instructions, but was hit out +again by a heavy drive on the chest. “Now’s the time! +Follow it up!” cried Belcher, and in rushed the smith, pelting +in his half-arm blows, and taking the returns without a wince, until +Crab Wilson went down exhausted in the corner. Both men had their +marks to show, but Harrison had all the best of the rally, so it was +our turn to throw our hats into the air and to shout ourselves hoarse, +whilst the seconds clapped their man upon his broad back as they hurried +him to his corner.<br> +<br> +“What think you now?” shouted all the neighbours of the +west-countryman, repeating his own refrain.<br> +<br> +“Why, Dutch Sam never put in a better rally,” cried Sir +John Lade. “What’s the betting now, Sir Lothian?”<br> +<br> +“I have laid all that I intend; but I don’t think my man +can lose it.” For all that, the smile had faded from his +face, and I observed that he glanced continually over his shoulder into +the crowd behind him.<br> +<br> +A sullen purple cloud had been drifting slowly up from the south-west +- though I dare say that out of thirty thousand folk there were very +few who had spared the time or attention to mark it. Now it suddenly +made its presence apparent by a few heavy drops of rain, thickening +rapidly into a sharp shower, which filled the air with its hiss, and +rattled noisily upon the high, hard hats of the Corinthians. Coat-collars +were turned up and handkerchiefs tied round. necks, whilst the skins +of the two men glistened with the moisture as they stood up to each +other once more. I noticed that Belcher whispered very earnestly +into Harrison’s ear as he rose from his knee, and that the smith +nodded his head curtly, with the air of a man who understands and approves +of his orders.<br> +<br> +And what those orders were was instantly apparent. Harrison was +to be turned from the defender into the attacker. The result of +the rally in the last round had convinced his seconds that when it came +to give-and-take hitting, their hardy and powerful man was likely to +have the better of it. And then on the top of this came the rain. +With the slippery grass the superior activity of Wilson would be neutralized, +and he would find it harder to avoid the rushes of his opponent. +It was in taking advantage of such circumstances that the art of ringcraft +lay, and many a shrewd and vigilant second had won a losing battle for +his man. “Go in, then! Go in!” whooped the two +prize-fighters, while every backer in the crowd took up the roar.<br> +<br> +And Harrison went in, in such fashion that no man who saw him do it +will ever forget it. Crab Wilson, as game as a pebble, met him +with a flush hit every time, but no human strength or human science +seemed capable of stopping the terrible onslaught of this iron man. +Round after round he scrambled his way in, slap-bang, right and left, +every hit tremendously sent home. Sometimes he covered his own +face with his left, and sometimes he disdained to use any guard at all, +but his springing hits were irresistible. The rain lashed down +upon them, pouring from their faces and running in crimson trickles +over their bodies, but neither gave any heed to it save to manoeuvre +always with the view of bringing it in to each other’s eyes. +But round after round the west-countryman fell, and round after round +the betting rose, until the odds were higher in our favour than ever +they had been against us. With a sinking heart, filled with pity +and admiration for these two gallant men, I longed that every bout might +be the last, and yet the “Time!” was hardly out of Jackson’s +mouth before they had both sprung from their second’s knees, with +laughter upon their mutilated faces and chaffing words upon their bleeding +lips. It may have been a humble object-lesson, but I give you +my word that many a time in my life I have braced myself to a hard task +by the remembrance of that morning upon Crawley Downs, asking myself +if my manhood were so weak that I would not do for my country, or for +those whom I loved, as much as these two would endure for a paltry stake +and for their own credit amongst their fellows. Such a spectacle +may brutalize those who are brutal, but I say that there is a spiritual +side to it also, and that the sight of the utmost human limit of endurance +and courage is one which bears a lesson of its own.<br> +<br> +But if the ring can breed bright virtues, it is but a partisan who can +deny that it can be the mother of black vices also, and we were destined +that morning to have a sight of each. It so chanced that, as the +battle went against his man, my eyes stole round very often to note +the expression upon Sir Lothian Hume’s face, for I knew how fearlessly +he had laid the odds, and I understood that his fortunes as well as +his champion were going down before the smashing blows of the old bruiser. +The confident smile with which he had watched the opening rounds had +long vanished from his lips, and his cheeks had turned of a sallow pallor, +whilst his small, fierce grey eyes looked furtively from under his craggy +brows, and more than once he burst into savage imprecations when Wilson +was beaten to the ground. But especially I noticed that his chin +was always coming round to his shoulder, and that at the end of every +round he sent keen little glances flying backwards into the crowd. +For some time, amidst the immense hillside of faces which banked themselves +up on the slope behind us, I was unable to pick out the exact point +at which his gaze was directed. But at last I succeeded in following +it. A very tall man, who showed a pair of broad, bottle-green +shoulders high above his neighbours, was looking very hard in our direction, +and I assured myself that a quick exchange of almost imperceptible signals +was going on between him and the Corinthian baronet. I became +conscious, also, as I watched this stranger, that the cluster of men +around him were the roughest elements of the whole assembly: fierce, +vicious-looking fellows, with cruel, debauched faces, who howled like +a pack of wolves at every blow, and yelled execrations at Harrison whenever +he walked across to his corner. So turbulent were they that I +saw the ringkeepers whisper together and glance up in their direction, +as if preparing for trouble in store, but none of them had realized +how near it was to breaking out, or how dangerous it might prove.<br> +<br> +Thirty rounds had been fought in an hour and twenty-five minutes, and +the rain was pelting down harder than ever. A thick steam rose +from the two fighters, and the ring was a pool of mud. Repeated +falls had turned the men brown, with a horrible mottling of crimson +blotches. Round after round had ended by Crab Wilson going down, +and it was evident, even to my inexperienced eyes, that he was weakening +rapidly. He leaned heavily upon the two Jews when they led him +to his corner, and he reeled when their support was withdrawn. +Yet his science had, through long practice, become an automatic thing +with him, so that he stopped and hit with less power, but with as great +accuracy as ever. Even now a casual observer might have thought +that he had the best of the battle, for the smith was far the more terribly +marked, but there was a wild stare in the west-countryman’s eyes, +and a strange catch in his breathing, which told us that it is not the +most dangerous blow which shows upon the surface. A heavy cross-buttock +at the end of the thirty-first round shook the breath from his body, +and he came up for the thirty-second with the same jaunty gallantry +as ever, but with the dazed expression of a man whose wind has been +utterly smashed.<br> +<br> +“He’s got the roly-polies,” cried Belcher. “You +have it your own way now!”<br> +<br> +“I’ll vight for a week yet,” gasped Wilson.<br> +<br> +“Damme, I like his style,” cried Sir John Lade. “No +shifting, nothing shy, no hugging nor hauling. It’s a shame +to let him fight. Take the brave fellow away!”<br> +<br> +“Take him away! Take him away!” echoed a hundred voices.<br> +<br> +“I won’t be taken away! Who dares say so?” cried +Wilson, who was back, after another fall, upon his second’s knee.<br> +<br> +“His heart won’t suffer him to cry enough,” said General +Fitzpatrick. “As his patron, Sir Lothian, you should direct +the sponge to be thrown up.”<br> +<br> +“You think he can’t win it?”<br> +<br> +“He is hopelessly beat, sir.”<br> +<br> +“You don’t know him. He’s a glutton of the first +water.”<br> +<br> +“A gamer man never pulled his shirt off; but the other is too +strong for him.”<br> +<br> +“Well, sir, I believe that he can fight another ten rounds.” +He half turned as he spoke, and I saw him throw up his left arm with +a singular gesture into the air.<br> +<br> +“Cut the ropes! Fair play! Wait till the rain stops!” +roared a stentorian voice behind me, and I saw that it came from the +big man with the bottle-green coat. His cry was a signal, for, +like a thunderclap, there came a hundred hoarse voices shouting together: +“Fair play for Gloucester! Break the ring! Break the +ring!”<br> +<br> +Jackson had called “Time,” and the two mud-plastered men +were already upon their feet, but the interest had suddenly changed +from the fight to the audience. A succession of heaves from the +back of the crowd had sent a series of long ripples running through +it, all the heads swaying rhythmically in the one direction like a wheatfield +in a squall. With every impulsion the oscillation increased, those +in front trying vainly to steady themselves against the rushes from +behind, until suddenly there came a sharp snap, two white stakes with +earth clinging to their points flew into the outer ring, and a spray +of people, dashed from the solid wave behind, were thrown against the +line of the beaters-out. Down came the long horse-whips, swayed +by the most vigorous arms in England; but the wincing and shouting victims +had no sooner scrambled back a few yards from the merciless cuts, before +a fresh charge from the rear hurled them once more into the arms of +the prize-fighters. Many threw themselves down upon the turf and +allowed successive waves to pass over their bodies, whilst others, driven +wild by the blows, returned them with their hunting-crops and walking-canes. +And then, as half the crowd strained to the left and half to the right +to avoid the pressure from behind, the vast mass was suddenly reft in +twain, and through the gap surged the rough fellows from behind, all +armed with loaded sticks and yelling for “Fair play and Gloucester!” +Their determined rush carried the prize-fighters before them, the inner +ropes snapped like threads, and in an instant the ring was a swirling,’ +seething mass of figures, whips and sticks falling and clattering, whilst, +face to face, in the middle of it all, so wedged that they could neither +advance nor retreat, the smith and the west-countryman continued their +long-drawn battle as oblivious of the chaos raging round them as two +bulldogs would have been who had got each other by the throat. +The driving rain, the cursing and screams of pain, the swish of the +blows, the yelling of orders and advice, the heavy smell of the damp +cloth - every incident of that scene of my early youth comes back to +me now in my old age as clearly as if it had been but yesterday.<br> +<br> +It was not easy for us to observe anything at the time, however, for +we were ourselves in the midst of the frantic crowd, swaying about and +carried occasionally quite off our feet, but endeavouring to keep our +places behind Jackson and Berkeley Craven, who, with sticks and whips +meeting over their heads, were still calling the rounds and superintending +the fight.<br> +<br> +“The ring’s broken!” shouted Sir Lothian Hume. +“I appeal to the referee! The fight is null and void.”<br> +<br> +“You villain!” cried my uncle, hotly; “this is your +doing.”<br> +<br> +“You have already an account to answer for with me,” said +Hume, with his sinister sneer, and as he spoke he was swept by the rush +of the crowd into my uncle’s very arms. The two men’s +faces were not more than a few inches apart, and Sir Lothian’s +bold eyes had to sink before the imperious scorn which gleamed coldly +in those of my uncle.<br> +<br> +“We will settle our accounts, never fear, though I degrade myself +in meeting such a blackleg. What is it, Craven?”<br> +<br> +“We shall have to declare a draw, Tregellis.”<br> +<br> +“My man has the fight in hand.”<br> +<br> +“I cannot help it. I cannot attend to my duties when every +moment I am cut over with a whip or a stick.”<br> +<br> +Jackson suddenly made a wild dash into the crowd, but returned with +empty hands and a rueful face.<br> +<br> +“They’ve stolen my timekeeper’s watch,” he cried. +“A little cove snatched it out of my hand.”<br> +<br> +My uncle clapped his hand to his fob.<br> +<br> +“Mine has gone also!” he cried.<br> +<br> +“Draw it at once, or your man will get hurt,” said Jackson, +and we saw that as the undaunted smith stood up to Wilson for another +round, a dozen rough fellows were clustering round him with bludgeons.<br> +<br> +“Do you consent to a draw, Sir Lothian Hume?”<br> +<br> +“I do.”<br> +<br> +“And you, Sir Charles?”<br> +<br> +“Certainly not.”<br> +<br> +“The ring is gone.”<br> +<br> +“That is no fault of mine.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I see no help for it. As referee I order that the +men be withdrawn, and that the stakes be returned to their owners.”<br> +<br> +“A draw! A draw!” shrieked every one, and the crowd +in an instant dispersed in every direction, the pedestrians running +to get a good lead upon the London road, and the Corinthians in search +of their horses and carriages. Harrison ran over to Wilson’s +corner and shook him by the hand.<br> +<br> +“I hope I have not hurt you much.”<br> +<br> +“I’m hard put to it to stand. How are you?”<br> +<br> +“My head’s singin’ like a kettle. It was the +rain that helped me.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, I thought I had you beat one time. I never wish a +better battle.”<br> +<br> +“Nor me either. Good-bye.”<br> +<br> +And so those two brave-hearted fellows made their way amidst the yelping +roughs, like two wounded lions amidst a pack of wolves and jackals. +I say again that, if the ring has fallen low, it is not in the main +the fault of the men who have done the fighting, but it lies at the +door of the vile crew of ring-side parasites and ruffians, who are as +far below the honest pugilist as the welsher and the blackleg are below +the noble racehorse which serves them as a pretext for their villainies.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIX - CLIFFE ROYAL<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle was humanely anxious to get Harrison to bed as soon as possible, +for the smith, although he laughed at his own injuries, had none the +less been severely punished.<br> +<br> +“Don’t you dare ever to ask my leave to fight again, Jack +Harrison,” said his wife, as she looked ruefully at his battered +face. “Why, it’s worse than when you beat Black Baruk; +and if it weren’t for your topcoat, I couldn’t swear you +were the man who led me to the altar! If the King of England ask +you, I’ll never let you do it more.”<br> +<br> +“Well, old lass, I give my davy that I never will. It’s +best that I leave fightin’ before fightin’ leaves me.” +He screwed up his face as he took a sup from Sir Charles’s brandy +flask. “It’s fine liquor, sir, but it gets into my +cut lips most cruel. Why, here’s John Cummings of the Friars’ +Oak Inn, as I’m a sinner, and seekin’ for a mad doctor, +to judge by the look of him!”<br> +<br> +It was certainly a most singular figure who was approaching us over +the moor. With the flushed, dazed face of a man who is just recovering +from recent intoxication, the landlord was tearing madly about, his +hat gone, and his hair and beard flying in the wind. He ran in +little zigzags from one knot of people to another, whilst his peculiar +appearance drew a running fire of witticisms as he went, so that he +reminded me irresistibly of a snipe skimming along through a line of +guns. We saw him stop for an instant by the yellow barouche, and +hand something to Sir Lothian Hume. Then on he came again, until +at last, catching sight of us, he gave a cry of joy, and ran for us +full speed with a note held out at arm’s length.<br> +<br> +“You’re a nice cove, too, John Cummings,” said Harrison, +reproachfully. “Didn’t I tell you not to let a drop +pass your lips until you had given your message to Sir Charles?”<br> +<br> +“I ought to be pole-axed, I ought,” he cried in bitter repentance. +“I asked for you, Sir Charles, as I’m a livin’ man, +I did, but you weren’t there, and what with bein’ so pleased +at gettin’ such odds when I knew Harrison was goin’ to fight, +an’ what with the landlord at the George wantin’ me to try +his own specials, I let my senses go clean away from me. And now +it’s only after the fight is over that I see you, Sir Charles, +an’ if you lay that whip over my back, it’s only what I +deserve.”<br> +<br> +But my uncle was paying no attention whatever to the voluble self-reproaches +of the landlord. He had opened the note, and was reading it with +a slight raising of the eyebrows, which was almost the very highest +note in his limited emotional gamut.<br> +<br> +“What make you of this, nephew?” he asked, handing it to +me.<br> +<br> +This was what I read -<br> +<br> +<br> +“SIR CHARLES TREGELLIS,<br> +<br> +“For God’s sake, come at once, when this reaches you, to +Cliffe Royal, and tarry as little as possible upon the way. You +will see me there, and you will hear much which concerns you deeply. +I pray you to come as soon as may be; and until then I remain him whom +you knew as<br> +<br> +“JAMES HARRISON.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“Well, nephew?” asked my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Why, sir, I cannot tell what it may mean.”<br> +<br> +“Who gave it to you, sirrah?”<br> +<br> +“It was young Jim Harrison himself, sir,” said the landlord, +“though indeed I scarce knew him at first, for he looked like +his own ghost. He was so eager that it should reach you that he +would not leave me until the horse was harnessed and I started upon +my way. There was one note for you and one for Sir Lothian Hume, +and I wish to God he had chosen a better messenger!”<br> +<br> +“This is a mystery indeed,” said my uncle, bending his brows +over the note. “What should he be doing at that house of +ill-omen? And why does he sign himself ‘him whom you knew +as Jim Harrison?’ By what other style should I know him? +Harrison, you can throw a light upon this. You, Mrs. Harrison; +I see by your face that you understand it.”<br> +<br> +“Maybe we do, Sir Charles; but we are plain folk, my Jack and +I, and we go as far as we see our way, and when we don’t see our +way any longer, we just stop. We’ve been goin’ this +twenty year, but now we’ll draw aside and let our betters get +to the front; so if you wish to find what that note means, I can only +advise you to do what you are asked, and to drive over to Cliffe Royal, +where you will find out.”<br> +<br> +My uncle put the note into his pocket.<br> +<br> +“I don’t move until I have seen you safely in the hands +of the surgeon, Harrison.”<br> +<br> +“Never mind for me, sir. The missus and me can drive down +to Crawley in the gig, and a yard of stickin’ plaster and a raw +steak will soon set me to rights.”<br> +<br> +But my uncle was by no means to be persuaded, and he drove the pair +into Crawley, where the smith was left under the charge of his wife +in the very best quarters which money could procure. Then, after +a hasty luncheon, we turned the mares’ heads for the south.<br> +<br> +“This ends my connection with the ring, nephew,” said my +uncle. “I perceive that there is no possible means by which +it can be kept pure from roguery. I have been cheated and befooled; +but a man learns wisdom at last, and never again do I give countenance +to a prize-fight.”<br> +<br> +Had I been older or he less formidable, I might have said what was in +my heart, and begged him to give up other things also - to come out +from those shallow circles in which he lived, and to find some work +that was worthy of his strong brain and his good heart. But the +thought had hardly formed itself in my mind before he had dropped his +serious vein, and was chatting away about some new silver-mounted harness +which he intended to spring upon the Mall, and about the match for a +thousand guineas which he meant to make between his filly Ethelberta +and Lord Doncaster’s famous three-year-old Aurelius.<br> +<br> +We had got as far as Whiteman’s Green, which is rather more than +midway between Crawley Down and Friars’ Oak, when, looking backwards, +I saw far down the road the gleam of the sun upon a high yellow carriage. +Sir Lothian Hume was following us.<br> +<br> +“He has had the same summons as we, and is bound for the same +destination,” said my uncle, glancing over his shoulder at the +distant barouche. “We are both wanted at Cliffe Royal - +we, the two survivors of that black business. And it is Jim Harrison +of all people who calls us there. Nephew, I have had an eventful +life, but I feel as if the very strangest scene of it were waiting for +me among those trees.”<br> +<br> +He whipped up the mares, and now from the curve of the road we could +see the high dark pinnacles of the old Manor-house shooting up above +the ancient oaks which ring it round. The sight of it, with its +bloodstained and ghost-blasted reputation, would in itself have been +enough to send a thrill through my nerves; but when the words of my +uncle made me suddenly realize that this strange summons was indeed +for the two men who were concerned in that old-world tragedy, and that +it was the playmate of my youth who had sent it, I caught my breath +as I seemed vaguely to catch a glimpse of some portentous thing forming +itself in front of us. The rusted gates between the crumbling +heraldic pillars were folded back, and my uncle flicked the mares impatiently +as we flew up the weed-grown avenue, until he pulled them on their haunches +before the time-blotched steps. The front door was open, and Boy +Jim was waiting there to meet us.<br> +<br> +But it was a different Boy Jim from him whom I had known and loved. +There was a change in him somewhere, a change so marked that it was +the first thing that I noticed, and yet so subtle that I could not put +words to it. He was not better dressed than of old, for I well +knew the old brown suit that he wore.<br> +<br> +He was not less comely, for his training had left him the very model +of what a man should be. And yet there was a change, a touch of +dignity in the expression, a suggestion of confidence in the bearing +which seemed, now that it was supplied, to be the one thing which had +been needed to give him harmony and finish.<br> +<br> +Somehow, in spite of his prowess, his old school name of “Boy” +had clung very naturally to him, until that instant when I saw him standing +in his self-contained and magnificent manhood in the doorway of the +ancient house. A woman stood beside him, her hand resting upon +his shoulder, and I saw that it was Miss Hinton of Anstey Cross.<br> +<br> +“You remember me, Sir Charles Tregellis,” said she, coming +forward, as we sprang down from the curricle.<br> +<br> +My uncle looked hard at her with a puzzled face.<br> +<br> +“I do not think that I have the privilege, madame. And yet +- ”<br> +<br> +“Polly Hinton, of the Haymarket. You surely cannot have +forgotten Polly Hinton.”<br> +<br> +“Forgotten! Why, we have mourned for you in Fops’ +Alley for more years than I care to think of. But what in the +name of wonder - ”<br> +<br> +“I was privately married, and I retired from the stage. +I want you to forgive me for taking Jim away from you last night.”<br> +<br> +“It was you, then?”<br> +<br> +“I had a stronger claim even than you could have. You were +his patron; I was his mother.” She drew his head down to +hers as she spoke, and there, with their cheeks together, were the two +faces, the one stamped with the waning beauty of womanhood, the other +with the waxing strength of man, and yet so alike in the dark eyes, +the blue-black hair and the broad white brow, that I marvelled that +I had never read her secret on the first days that I had seen them together. +“Yes,” she cried, “he is my own boy, and he saved +me from what is worse than death, as your nephew Rodney could tell you. +Yet my lips were sealed, and it was only last night that I could tell +him that it was his mother whom he had brought back by his gentleness +and his patience into the sweetness of life.”<br> +<br> +“Hush, mother!” said Jim, turning his lips to her cheek. +“There are some things which are between ourselves. But +tell me, Sir Charles, how went the fight?”<br> +<br> +“Your uncle would have won it, but the roughs broke the ring.”<br> +<br> +“He is no uncle of mine, Sir Charles, but he has been the best +and truest friend, both to me and to my father, that ever the world +could offer. I only know one as true,” he continued, taking +me by the hand, “and dear old Rodney Stone is his name. +But I trust he was not much hurt?”<br> +<br> +“A week or two will set him right. But I cannot pretend +to understand how this matter stands, and you must allow me to say that +I have not heard you advance anything yet which seems to me to justify +you in abandoning your engagements at a moment’s notice.”<br> +<br> +“Come in, Sir Charles, and I am convinced that you will acknowledge +that I could not have done otherwise. But here, if I mistake not, +is Sir Lothian Hume.”<br> +<br> +The yellow barouche had swung into the avenue, and a few moments later +the weary, panting horses had pulled up behind our curricle. Sir +Lothian sprang out, looking as black as a thunder-cloud.<br> +<br> +“Stay where you are, Corcoran,” said he; and I caught a +glimpse of a bottle-green coat which told me who was his travelling +companion. “Well,” he continued, looking round him +with an insolent stare, “I should vastly like to know who has +had the insolence to give me so pressing an invitation to visit my own +house, and what in the devil you mean by daring to trespass upon my +grounds?”<br> +<br> +“I promise you that you will understand this and a good deal more +before we part, Sir Lothian,” said Jim, with a curious smile playing +over his face. “If you will follow me, I will endeavour +to make it all clear to you.”<br> +<br> +With his mother’s hand in his own, he led us into that ill-omened +room where the cards were still heaped upon the sideboard, and the dark +shadow lurked in the corner of the ceiling.<br> +<br> +“Now, sirrah, your explanation!” cried Sir Lothian, standing +with his arms folded by the door.<br> +<br> +“My first explanations I owe to you, Sir Charles,” said +Jim; and as I listened to his voice and noted his manner, I could not +but admire the effect which the company of her whom he now knew to be +his mother had had upon a rude country lad. “I wish to tell +you what occurred last night.”<br> +<br> +“I will tell it for you, Jim,” said his mother. “You +must know, Sir Charles, that though my son knew nothing of his parents, +we were both alive, and had never lost sight of him. For my part, +I let him have his own way in going to London and in taking up this +challenge. It was only yesterday that it came to the ears of his +father, who would have none of it. He was in the weakest health, +and his wishes were not to be gainsayed. He ordered me to go at +once and to bring his son to his side. I was at my wit’s +end, for I was sure that Jim would never come unless a substitute were +provided for him. I went to the kind, good couple who had brought +him up, and I told them how matters stood. Mrs. Harrison loved +Jim as if he had been her own son, and her husband loved mine, so they +came to my help, and may God bless them for their kindness to a distracted +wife and mother! Harrison would take Jim’s place if Jim +would go to his father. Then I drove to Crawley. I found +out which was Jim’s room, and I spoke to him through the window, +for I was sure that those who had backed him would not let him go. +I told him that I was his mother. I told him who was his father. +I said that I had my phaeton ready, and that he might, for all I knew, +be only in time to receive the dying blessing of that parent whom he +had never known. Still the boy would not go until he had my assurance +that Harrison would take his place.”<br> +<br> +“Why did he not leave a message with Belcher?”<br> +<br> +“My head was in a whirl, Sir Charles. To find a father and +a mother, a new name and a new rank in a few minutes might turn a stronger +brain than ever mine was. My mother begged me to come with her, +and I went. The phaeton was waiting, but we had scarcely started +when some fellow seized the horses’ heads, and a couple of ruffians +attacked us. One of them I beat over the head with the butt of +the whip, so that he dropped the cudgel with which he was about to strike +me; then lashing the horse, I shook off the others and got safely away. +I cannot imagine who they were or why they should molest us.”<br> +<br> +“Perhaps Sir Lothian Hume could tell you,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +Our enemy said nothing; but his little grey eyes slid round with a most +murderous glance in our direction.<br> +<br> +“After I had come here and seen my father I went down - ”<br> +<br> +My uncle stopped him with a cry of astonishment.<br> +<br> +“What did you say, young man? You came here and you saw +your father - here at Cliffe Royal?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, sir.”<br> +<br> +My uncle had turned very pale.<br> +<br> +“In God’s name, then, tell us who your father is!”<br> +<br> +Jim made no answer save to point over our shoulders, and glancing round, +we became aware that two people had entered the room through the door +which led to the bedroom stair. The one I recognized in an instant. +That impassive, mask-like face and demure manner could only belong to +Ambrose, the former valet of my uncle. The other was a very different +and even more singular figure. He was a tall man, clad in a dark +dressing-gown, and leaning heavily upon a stick. His long, bloodless +countenance was so thin and so white that it gave the strangest illusion +of transparency. Only within the folds of a shroud have I ever +seen so wan a face. The brindled hair and the rounded back gave +the impression of advanced age, and it was only the dark brows and the +bright alert eyes glancing out from beneath them which made me doubt +whether it was really an old man who stood before us.<br> +<br> +There was an instant of silence, broken by a deep oath from Sir Lothian +Hume -<br> +<br> +“Lord Avon, by God!” he cried.<br> +<br> +“Very much at your service, gentlemen,” answered the strange +figure in the dressing-gown.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XX - LORD AVON<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +My uncle was an impassive man by nature and had become more so by the +tradition of the society in which he lived. He could have turned +a card upon which his fortune depended without the twitch of a muscle, +and I had seen him myself driving to imminent death on the Godstone +Road with as calm a face as if he were out for his daily airing in the +Mall. But now the shock which had come upon him was so great that +he could only stand with white cheeks and staring, incredulous eyes. +Twice I saw him open his lips, and twice he put his hand up to his throat, +as though a barrier had risen betwixt himself and his utterance. +Finally, he took a sudden little run forward with both his hands thrown +out in greeting.<br> +<br> +“Ned!” he cried.<br> +<br> +But the strange man who stood before him folded his arms over his breast.<br> +<br> +“No Charles,” said he.<br> +<br> +My uncle stopped and looked at him in amazement.<br> +<br> +“Surely, Ned, you have a greeting for me after all these years?”<br> +<br> +“You believed me to have done this deed, Charles. I read +it in your eyes and in your manner on that terrible morning. You +never asked me for an explanation. You never considered how impossible +such a crime must be for a man of my character. At the first breath +of suspicion you, my intimate friend, the man who knew me best, set +me down as a thief and a murderer.”<br> +<br> +“No, no, Ned.”<br> +<br> +“You did, Charles; I read it in your eyes. And so it was +that when I wished to leave that which was most precious to me in safe +hands I had to pass you over and to place him in the charge of the one +man who from the first never doubted my innocence. Better a thousand +times that my son should be brought up in a humble station and in ignorance +of his unfortunate father, than that he should learn to share the doubts +and suspicions of his equals.”<br> +<br> +“Then he is really your son!” cried my uncle, staring at +Jim in amazement.<br> +<br> +For answer the man stretched out his long withered arm, and placed a +gaunt hand upon the shoulder of the actress, whilst she looked up at +him with love in her eyes.<br> +<br> +“I married, Charles, and I kept it secret from my friends, for +I had chosen my wife outside our own circles. You know the foolish +pride which has always been the strongest part of my nature. I +could not bear to avow that which I had done. It was this neglect +upon my part which led to an estrangement between us, and drove her +into habits for which it is I who am to blame and not she. Yet +on account of these same habits I took the child from her and gave her +an allowance on condition that she did not interfere with it. +I had feared that the boy might receive evil from her, and had never +dreamed in my blindness that she might get good from him. But +I have learned in my miserable life, Charles, that there is a power +which fashions things for us, though we may strive to thwart it, and +that we are in truth driven by an unseen current towards a certain goal, +however much we may deceive ourselves into thinking that it is our own +sails and oars which are speeding us upon our way.”<br> +<br> +My eyes had been upon the face of my uncle as he listened, but now as +I turned them from him they fell once more upon the thin, wolfish face +of Sir Lothian Hume. He stood near the window, his grey silhouette +thrown up against the square of dusty glass; and I have never seen such +a play of evil passions, of anger, of jealousy, of disappointed greed +upon a human face before.<br> +<br> +“Am I to understand,” said he, in a loud, harsh voice, “that +this young man claims to be the heir of the peerage of Avon?”<br> +<br> +“He is my lawful son.”<br> +<br> +“I knew you fairly well, sir, in our youth; but you will allow +me to observe that neither I nor any friend of yours ever heard of a +wife or a son. I defy Sir Charles Tregellis to say that he ever +dreamed that there was any heir except myself.”<br> +<br> +“I have already explained, Sir Lothian, why I kept my marriage +secret.”<br> +<br> +“You have explained, sir; but it is for others in another place +to say if that explanation is satisfactory.”<br> +<br> +Two blazing dark eyes flashed out of the pale haggard face with as strange +and sudden an effect as if a stream of light were to beat through the +windows of a shattered and ruined house.<br> +<br> +“You dare to doubt my word?”<br> +<br> +“I demand a proof.”<br> +<br> +“My word is proof to those who know me.”<br> +<br> +“Excuse me, Lord Avon; but I know you, and I see no reason why +I should accept your statement.”<br> +<br> +It was a brutal speech, and brutally delivered. Lord Avon staggered +forward, and it was only his son on one aide and his wife on the other +who kept his quivering hands from the throat of his insulter. +Sir Lothian recoiled from the pale fierce face with the black brows, +but he still glared angrily about the room.<br> +<br> +“A very pretty conspiracy this,” he cried, “with a +criminal, an actress, and a prize-fighter all playing their parts. +Sir Charles Tregellis, you shall hear from me again! And you also, +my lord!” He turned upon his heel and strode from the room.<br> +<br> +“He has gone to denounce me,” said Lord Avon, a spasm of +wounded pride distorting his features.<br> +<br> +“Shall I bring him back?” cried Boy Jim.<br> +<br> +“No, no, let him go. It is as well, for I have already made +up my mind that my duty to you, my son, outweighs that which I owe, +and have at such bitter cost fulfilled, to my brother and my family.”<br> +<br> +“You did me an injustice, Ned,” said my uncle, “if +you thought that I had forgotten you, or that I had judged you unkindly. +If ever I have thought that you had done this deed - and how could I +doubt the evidence of my own eyes - I have always believed that it was +at a time when your mind was unhinged, and when you knew no more of +what you were about than the man who is walking in his sleep.”<br> +<br> +“What do you mean when you talk about the evidence of your own +eyes?” asked Lord Avon, looking hard at my uncle.<br> +<br> +“I saw you, Ned, upon that accursed night.”<br> +<br> +“Saw me? Where?”<br> +<br> +“In the passage.”<br> +<br> +“And doing what?”<br> +<br> +“You were coming from your brother’s room. I had heard +his voice raised in anger and pain only an instant before. You +carried in your hand a bag full of money, and your face betrayed the +utmost agitation. If you can but explain to me, Ned, how you came +to be there, you will take from my heart a weight which has pressed +upon it for all these years.”<br> +<br> +No one now would have recognized in my uncle the man who was the leader +of all the fops of London. In the presence of this old friend +and of the tragedy which girt him round, the veil of triviality and +affectation had been rent, and I felt all my gratitude towards him deepening +for the first time into affection whilst I watched his pale, anxious +face, and the eager hops which shone in his eyes as he awaited his friend’s +explanation. Lord Avon sank his face in his hands, and for a few +moments there was silence in the dim grey room.<br> +<br> +“I do not wonder now that you were shaken,” said he at last. +“My God, what a net was cast round me! Had this vile charge +been brought against me, you, my dearest friend, would have been compelled +to tear away the last doubt as to my guilt. And yet, in spite +of what you have seen, Charles, I am as innocent in the matter as you +are.”<br> +<br> +“I thank God that I hear you say so.”<br> +<br> +“But you are not satisfied, Charles. I can read it on your +face. You wish to know why an innocent man should conceal himself +for all these years.”<br> +<br> +“Your word is enough for me, Ned; but the world will wish this +other question answered also.”<br> +<br> +“It was to save the family honour, Charles. You know how +dear it was to me. I could not clear myself without proving my +brother to have been guilty of the foulest crime which a gentleman could +commit. For eighteen years I have screened him at the expense +of everything which a man could sacrifice. I have lived a living +death which has left me an old and shattered man when I am but in my +fortieth year. But now when I am faced with the alternative of +telling the facts about my brother, or of wronging my son, I can only +act in one fashion, and the more so since I have reason to hope that +a way may be found by which what I am now about to disclose to you need +never come to the public ear.”<br> +<br> +He rose from his chair, and leaning heavily upon his two supporters, +he tottered across the room to the dust-covered sideboard. There, +in the centre of it, was lying that ill-boding pile of time-stained, +mildewed cards, just as Boy Jim and I had seen them years before. +Lord Avon turned them over with trembling fingers, and then picking +up half a dozen, he brought them to my uncle.<br> +<br> +“Place your finger and thumb upon the left-hand bottom corner +of this card, Charles,” said he. “Pass them lightly +backwards and forwards, and tell me what you feel.”<br> +<br> +“It has been pricked with a pin.”<br> +<br> +“Precisely. What is the card?”<br> +<br> +My uncle turned it over.<br> +<br> +“It is the king of clubs.”<br> +<br> +“Try the bottom corner of this one.”<br> +<br> +“It is quite smooth.”<br> +<br> +“And the card is?”<br> +<br> +“The three of spades.”<br> +<br> +“And this one?”<br> +<br> +“It has been pricked. It is the ace of hearts.” +Lord Avon hurled them down upon the floor.<br> +<br> +“There you have the whole accursed story!” he cried. +“Need I go further where every word is an agony?”<br> +<br> +“I see something, but not all. You must continue, Ned.”<br> +<br> +The frail figure stiffened itself, as though he were visibly bracing +himself for an effort.<br> +<br> +“I will tell it you, then, once and for ever. Never again, +I trust, will it be necessary for me to open my lips about the miserable +business. You remember our game. You remember how we lost. +You remember how you all retired, and left me sitting in this very room, +and at that very table. Far from being tired, I was exceedingly +wakeful, and I remained here for an hour or more thinking over the incidents +of the game and the changes which it promised to bring about in my fortunes. +I had, as you will recollect, lost heavily, and my only consolation +was that my own brother had won. I knew that, owing to his reckless +mode of life, he was firmly in the clutches of the Jews, and I hoped +that that which had shaken my position might have the effect of restoring +his. As I sat there, fingering the cards in an abstracted way, +some chance led me to observe the small needle-pricks which you have +just felt. I went over the packs, and found, to my unspeakable +horror, that any one who was in the secret could hold them in dealing +in such a way as to be able to count the exact number of high cards +which fell to each of his opponents. And then, with such a flush +of shame and disgust as I had never known, I remembered how my attention +had been drawn to my brother’s mode of dealing, its slowness, +and the way in which he held each card by the lower corner.<br> +<br> +“I did not condemn him precipitately. I sat for a long time +calling to mind every incident which could tell one way or the other. +Alas! it all went to confirm me in my first horrible suspicion, and +to turn it into a certainty. My brother had ordered the packs +from Ledbury’s, in Bond Street. They had been for some hours +in his chambers. He had played throughout with a decision which +had surprised us at the time. Above all, I could not conceal from +myself that his past life was not such as to make even so abominable +a crime as this impossible to him. Tingling with anger and shame, +I went straight up that stair, the cards in my hand, and I taxed him +with this lowest and meanest of all the crimes to which a villain could +descend.<br> +<br> +“He had not retired to rest, and his ill-gotten gains were spread +out upon the dressing-table. I hardly know what I said to him, +but the facts were so deadly that he did not attempt to deny his guilt. +You will remember, as the only mitigation of his crime, that he was +not yet one and twenty years of age. My words overwhelmed him. +He went on his knees to me, imploring me to spare him. I told +him that out of consideration for our family I should make no public +exposure of him, but that he must never again in his life lay his hand +upon a card, and that the money which he had won must be returned next +morning with an explanation. It would be social ruin, he protested. +I answered that he must take the consequence of his own deed. +Then and there I burned the papers which he had won from me, and I replaced +in a canvas bag which lay upon the table all the gold pieces. +I would have left the room without another word, but he clung to me, +and tore the ruffle from my wrist in his attempt to hold me back, and +to prevail upon me to promise to say nothing to you or Sir Lothian Hume. +It was his despairing cry, when he found that I was proof against all +his entreaties, which reached your ears, Charles, and caused you to +open your chamber door and to see me as I returned to my room.”<br> +<br> +My uncle drew a long sigh of relief.<br> +<br> +“Nothing could be clearer!” he murmured.<br> +<br> +“In the morning I came, as you remember, to your room, and I returned +your money. I did the same to Sir Lothian Hume. I said nothing +of my reasons for doing so, for I found that I could not bring myself +to confess our disgrace to you. Then came the horrible discovery +which has darkened my life, and which was as great a mystery to me as +it has been to you. I saw that I was suspected, and I saw, also, +that even if I were to clear myself, it could only be done by a public +confession of the infamy of my brother. I shrank from it, Charles. +Any personal suffering seemed to me to be better than to bring public +shame upon a family which has held an untarnished record through so +many centuries. I fled from my trial, therefore, and disappeared +from the world.<br> +<br> +“But, first of all, it was necessary that I should make arrangements +for the wife and the son, of whose existence you and my other friends +were ignorant. It is with shame, Mary, that I confess it, and +I acknowledge to you that the blame of all the consequences rests with +me rather than with you. At the time there were reasons, now happily +long gone past, which made me determine that the son was better apart +from the mother, whose absence at that age he would not miss. +I would have taken you into my confidence, Charles, had it not been +that your suspicions had wounded me deeply - for I did not at that time +understand how strong the reasons were which had prejudiced you against +me.<br> +<br> +“On the evening after the tragedy I fled to London, and arranged +that my wife should have a fitting allowance on condition that she did +not interfere with the child. I had, as you remember, had much +to do with Harrison, the prize-fighter, and I had often had occasion +to admire his simple and honest nature. I took my boy to him now, +and I found him, as I expected, incredulous as to my guilt, and ready +to assist me in any way. At his wife’s entreaty he had just +retired from the ring, and was uncertain how he should employ himself. +I was able to fit him up as a smith, on condition that he should ply +his trade at the village of Friar’s Oak. My agreement was +that James was to be brought up as their nephew, and that he should +know nothing of his unhappy parents.<br> +<br> +“You will ask me why I selected Friar’s Oak. It was +because I had already chosen my place of concealment; and if I could +not see my boy, it was, at least, some consolation to know that he was +near me. You are aware that this mansion is one of the oldest +in England; but you are not aware that it has been built with a very +special eye to concealment, that there are no less than two habitable +secret chambers, and that the outer or thicker walls are tunnelled into +passages. The existence of these rooms has always been a family +secret, though it was one which I valued so little that it was only +the chance of my seldom using the house which had prevented me from +pointing them out to some friend. Now I found that a secure retreat +was provided for me in my extremity. I stole down to my own mansion, +entered it at night, and, leaving all that was dear to me behind, I +crept like a rat behind the wainscot, to live out the remainder of my +weary life in solitude and misery. In this worn face, Charles, +and in this grizzled hair, you may read the diary of my most miserable +existence.<br> +<br> +“Once a week Harrison used to bring me up provisions, passing +them through the pantry window, which I left open for the purpose. +Sometimes I would steal out at night and walk under the stars once more, +with the cool breeze upon my forehead; but this I had at last to stop, +for I was seen by the rustics, and rumours of a spirit at Cliffe Royal +began to get about. One night two ghost-hunters - ”<br> +<br> +“It was I, father,” cried Boy Jim; “I and my friend, +Rodney Stone.”<br> +<br> +“I know it was. Harrison told me so the same night. +I was proud, James, to see that you had the spirit of the Barringtons, +and that I had an heir whose gallantry might redeem the family blot +which I have striven so hard to cover over. Then came the day +when your mother’s kindness - her mistaken kindness - gave you +the means of escaping to London.”<br> +<br> +“Ah, Edward,” cried his wife, “if you had seen our +boy, like a caged eagle, beating against the bars, you would have helped +to give him even so short a flight as this.”<br> +<br> +“I do not blame you, Mary. It is possible that I should +have done so. He went to London, and he tried to open a career +for himself by his own strength and courage. How many of our ancestors +have done the same, save only that a sword-hilt lay in their closed +hands; but of them all I do not know that any have carried themselves +more gallantly!”<br> +<br> +“That I dare swear,” said my uncle, heartily.<br> +<br> +“And then, when Harrison at last returned, I learned that my son +was actually matched to fight in a public prize-battle. That would +not do, Charles! It was one thing to fight as you and I have fought +in our youth, and it was another to compete for a purse of gold.”<br> +<br> +“My dear friend, I would not for the world - ”<br> +<br> +“Of course you would not, Charles. You chose the best man, +and how could you do otherwise? But it would not do! I determined +that the time had come when I should reveal myself to my son, the more +so as there were many signs that my most unnatural existence had seriously +weakened my health. Chance, or shall I not rather say Providence, +had at last made clear all that had been dark, and given me the means +of establishing my innocence. My wife went yesterday to bring +my boy at last to the side of his unfortunate father.”<br> +<br> +There was silence for some time, and then it was my uncle’s voice +which broke it.<br> +<br> +“You’ve been the most ill-used man in the world, Ned,” +said he. “Please God we shall have many years yet in which +to make up to you for it. But, after all, it seems to me that +we are as far as ever from learning how your unfortunate brother met +his death.”<br> +<br> +“For eighteen years it was as much a mystery to me as to you, +Charles. But now at last the guilt is manifest. Stand forward, +Ambrose, and tell your story as frankly and as fully as you have told +it to me.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXI - THE VALET’S STORY<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The valet had shrunk into the dark corner of the room, and had remained +so motionless that we had forgotten his presence until, upon this appeal +from his former master, he took a step forward into the light, turning +his sallow face in our direction. His usually impassive features +were in a state of painful agitation, and he spoke slowly and with hesitation, +as though his trembling lips could hardly frame the words. And +yet, so strong is habit, that, even in this extremity of emotion he +assumed the deferential air of the high-class valet, and his sentences +formed themselves in the sonorous fashion which had struck my attention +upon that first day when the curricle of my uncle had stopped outside +my father’s door.<br> +<br> +“My Lady Avon and gentlemen,” said he, “if I have +sinned in this matter, and I freely confess that I have done so, I only +know one way in which I can atone for it, and that is by making the +full and complete confession which my noble master, Lord Avon, has demanded. +I assure you, then, that what I am about to tell you, surprising as +it may seem, is the absolute and undeniable truth concerning the mysterious +death of Captain Barrington.<br> +<br> +“It may seem impossible to you that one in my humble walk of life +should bear a deadly and implacable hatred against a man in the position +of Captain Barrington. You think that the gulf between is too +wide. I can tell you, gentlemen, that the gulf which can be bridged +by unlawful love can be spanned also by an unlawful hatred, and that +upon the day when this young man stole from me all that made my life +worth living, I vowed to Heaven that I should take from him that foul +life of his, though the deed would cover but the tiniest fraction of +the debt which he owed me. I see that you look askance at me, +Sir Charles Tregellis, but you should pray to God, sir, that you may +never have the chance of finding out what you would yourself be capable +of in the same position.”<br> +<br> +It was a wonder to all of us to see this man’s fiery nature breaking +suddenly through the artificial constraints with which he held it in +check. His short dark hair seemed to bristle upwards, his eyes +glowed with the intensity of his passion, and his face expressed a malignity +of hatred which neither the death of his enemy nor the lapse of years +could mitigate. The demure servant was gone, and there stood in +his place a deep and dangerous man, one who might be an ardent lover +or a most vindictive foe.<br> +<br> +“We were about to be married, she and I, when some black chance +threw him across our path. I do not know by what base deceptions +he lured her away from me. I have heard that she was only one +of many, and that he was an adept at the art. It was done before +ever I knew the danger, and she was left with her broken heart and her +ruined life to return to that home into which she had brought disgrace +and misery. I only saw her once. She told me that her seducer +had burst out a-laughing when she had reproached him for his perfidy, +and I swore to her that his heart’s blood should pay me for that +laugh.<br> +<br> +“I was a valet at the time, but I was not yet in the service of +Lord Avon. I applied for and gained that position with the one +idea that it might give me an opportunity of settling my accounts with +his younger brother. And yet my chance was a terribly long time +coming, for many months had passed before the visit to Cliffe Royal +gave me the opportunity which I longed for by day and dreamed of by +night. When it did come, however, it came in a fashion which was +more favourable to my plans than anything that I had ever ventured to +hope for.<br> +<br> +“Lord Avon was of opinion that no one but himself knew of the +secret passages in Cliffe Royal. In this he was mistaken. +I knew of them - or, at least, I knew enough of them to serve my purpose. +I need not tell you how, one day, when preparing the chambers for the +guests, an accidental pressure upon part of the fittings caused a panel +to gape in the woodwork, and showed me a narrow opening in the wall. +Making my way down this, I found that another panel led into a larger +bedroom beyond. That was all I knew, but it was all that was needed +for my purpose. The disposal of the rooms had been left in my +hands, and I arranged that Captain Barrington should sleep in the larger +and I in the smaller. I could come upon him when I wished, and +no one would be the wiser.<br> +<br> +“And then he arrived. How can I describe to you the fever +of impatience in which I lived until the moment should come for which +I had waited and planned. For a night and a day they gambled, +and for a night and a day I counted the minutes which brought me nearer +to my man. They might ring for fresh wine at what hour they liked, +they always found me waiting and ready, so that this young captain hiccoughed +out that I was the model of all valets. My master advised me to +go to bed. He had noticed my flushed cheek and my bright eyes, +and he set me down as being in a fever. So I was, but it was a +fever which only one medicine could assuage.<br> +<br> +“Then at last, very early in the morning, I heard them push back +their chairs, and I knew that their game had at last come to an end. +When I entered the room to receive my orders, I found that Captain Barrington +had already stumbled off to bed. The others had also retired, +and my master was sitting alone at the table, with his empty bottle +and the scattered cards in front of him. He ordered me angrily +to my room, and this time I obeyed him.<br> +<br> +“My first care was to provide myself with a weapon. I knew +that if I were face to face with him I could tear his throat out, but +I must so arrange that the fashion of his death should be a noiseless +one. There was a hunting trophy in the hall, and from it I took +a straight heavy knife which I sharpened upon my boot. Then I +stole to my room, and sat waiting upon the side of my bed. I had +made up my mind what I should do. There would be little satisfaction +in killing him if he was not to know whose hand had struck the blow, +or which of his sins it came to avenge. Could I but bind him and +gag him in his drunken sleep, then a prick or two of my dagger would +arouse him to listen to what I had to say to him. I pictured the +look in his eyes as the haze of sleep cleared slowly away from them, +the look of anger turning suddenly to stark horror as he understood +who I was and what I had come for. It would be the supreme moment +of my life.<br> +<br> +“I waited as it seemed to me for at least an hour; but I had no +watch, and my impatience was such that I dare say it really was little +more than a quarter of that time. Then I rose, removed my shoes, +took my knife, and having opened the panel, slipped silently through. +It was not more than thirty feet that I had to go, but I went inch by +inch, for the old rotten boards snapped like breaking twigs if a sudden +weight was placed upon them. It was, of course, pitch dark, and +very, very slowly I felt my way along. At last I saw a yellow +seam of light glimmering in front of me, and I knew that it came from +the other panel. I was too soon, then, since he had not extinguished +his candles. I had waited many months, and I could afford to wait +another hour, for I did not wish to do anything precipitately or in +a hurry.<br> +<br> +“It was very necessary to move silently now, since I was within +a few feet of my man, with only the thin wooden partition between. +Age had warped and cracked the boards, so that when I had at last very +stealthily crept my way as far as the sliding-panel, I found that I +could, without any difficulty, see into the room. Captain Barrington +was standing by the dressing-table with his coat and vest off. +A large pile of sovereigns, and several slips of paper were lying before +him, and he was counting over his gambling gains. His face was +flushed, and he was heavy from want of sleep and from wine. It +rejoiced me to see it, for it meant that his slumber would be deep, +and that all would be made easy for me.<br> +<br> +“I was still watching him, when of a sudden I saw him start, and +a terrible expression come upon his face. For an instant my heart +stood still, for I feared that he had in some way divined my presence. +And then I heard the voice of my master within. I could not see +the door by which he had entered, nor could I see him where he stood, +but I heard all that he had to say. As I watched the captain’s +face flush fiery-red, and then turn to a livid white as he listened +to those bitter words which told him of his infamy, my revenge was sweeter +- far sweeter - than my most pleasant dreams had ever pictured it. +I saw my master approach the dressing-table, hold the papers in the +flame of the candle, throw their charred ashes into the grate, and sweep +the golden pieces into a small brown canvas bag. Then, as he turned +to leave the room, the captain seized him by the wrist, imploring him, +by the memory of their mother, to have mercy upon him; and I loved my +master as I saw him drag his sleeve from the grasp of the clutching +fingers, and leave the stricken wretch grovelling upon the floor.<br> +<br> +“And now I was left with a difficult point to settle, for it was +hard for me to say whether it was better that I should do that which +I had come for, or whether, by holding this man’s guilty secret, +I might not have in my hand a keener and more deadly weapon than my +master’s hunting-knife. I was sure that Lord Avon could +not and would not expose him. I knew your sense of family pride +too well, my lord, and I was certain that his secret was safe in your +hands. But I both could and would; and then, when his life had +been blasted, and he had been hounded from his regiment and from his +clubs, it would be time, perhaps, for me to deal in some other way with +him.”<br> +<br> +“Ambrose, you are a black villain,” said my uncle.<br> +<br> +“We all have our own feelings, Sir Charles; and you will permit +me to say that a serving-man may resent an injury as much as a gentleman, +though the redress of the duel is denied to him. But I am telling +you frankly, at Lord Avon’s request, all that I thought and did +upon that night, and I shall continue to do so, even if I am not fortunate +enough to win your approval.<br> +<br> +“When Lord Avon had left him, the captain remained for some time +in a kneeling attitude, with his face sunk upon a chair. Then +he rose, and paced slowly up and down the room, his chin sunk upon his +breast. Every now and then he would pluck at his hair, or shake +his clenched hands in the air; and I saw the moisture glisten upon his +brow. For a time I lost sight of him, and I heard him opening +drawer after drawer, as though he were in search of something. +Then he stood over by his dressing-table again, with his back turned +to me. His head was thrown a little back, and he had both hands +up to the collar of his shirt, as though he were striving to undo it. +And then there was a gush as if a ewer had been upset, and down he sank +upon the ground, with his head in the corner, twisted round at so strange +an angle to his shoulders that one glimpse of it told me that my man +was slipping swiftly from the clutch in which I had fancied that I held +him. I slid my panel, and was in the room in an instant. +His eyelids still quivered, and it seemed to me, as my gaze met his +glazing eyes, that I could read both recognition and surprise in them. +I laid my knife upon the floor, and I stretched myself out beside him, +that I might whisper in his ear one or two little things of which I +wished to remind him; but even as I did so, he gave a gasp and was gone.<br> +<br> +“It is singular that I, who had never feared him in life, should +be frightened at him now, and yet when I looked at him, and saw that +all was motionless save the creeping stain upon the carpet, I was seized +with a sudden foolish spasm of terror, and, catching up my knife, I +fled swiftly and silently back to my own room, closing the panels behind +me. It was only when I had reached it that I found that in my +mad haste I had carried away, not the hunting-knife which I had taken +with me, but the bloody razor which had dropped from the dead man’s +hand. This I concealed where no one has ever discovered it; but +my fears would not allow me to go back for the other, as I might perhaps +have done, had I foreseen how terribly its presence might tell against +my master. And that, Lady Avon and gentlemen, is an exact and +honest account of how Captain Barrington came by his end.”<br> +<br> +“And how was it,” asked my uncle, angrily, “that you +have allowed an innocent man to be persecuted all these years, when +a word from you might have saved him?”<br> +<br> +“Because I had every reason to believe, Sir Charles, that that +would be most unwelcome to Lord Avon. How could I tell all this +without revealing the family scandal which he was so anxious to conceal? +I confess that at the beginning I did not tell him what I had seen, +and my excuse must be that he disappeared before I had time to determine +what I should do. For many a year, however - ever since I have +been in your service, Sir Charles - my conscience tormented me, and +I swore that if ever I should find my old master, I should reveal everything +to him. The chance of my overhearing a story told by young Mr. +Stone here, which showed me that some one was using the secret chambers +of Cliffe Royal, convinced me that Lord Avon was in hiding there, and +I lost no time in seeking him out and offering to do him all the justice +in my power.”<br> +<br> +“What he says is true,” said his master; “but it would +have been strange indeed if I had hesitated to sacrifice a frail life +and failing health in a cause for which I freely surrendered all that +youth had to offer. But new considerations have at last compelled +me to alter my resolution. My son, through ignorance of his true +position, was drifting into a course of life which accorded with his +strength and spirit, but not with the traditions of his house. +Again, I reflected that many of those who knew my brother had passed +away, that all the facts need not come out, and that my death whilst +under the suspicion of such a crime would cast a deeper stain upon our +name than the sin which he had so terribly expiated. For these +reasons - ”<br> +<br> +The tramp of several heavy footsteps reverberating through the old house +broke in suddenly upon Lord Avon’s words. His wan face turned +even a shade greyer as he heard it, and he looked piteously to his wife +and son.<br> +<br> +“They will arrest me!” he cried. “I must submit +to the degradation of an arrest.”<br> +<br> +“This way, Sir James; this way,” said the harsh tones of +Sir Lothian Hume from without.<br> +<br> +“I do not need to be shown the way in a house where I have drunk +many a bottle of good claret,” cried a deep voice in reply; and +there in the doorway stood the broad figure of Squire Ovington in his +buckskins and top-boots, a riding-crop in his hand. Sir Lothian +Hume was at his elbow, and I saw the faces of two country constables +peeping over his shoulders.<br> +<br> +“Lord Avon,” said the squire, “as a magistrate of +the county of Sussex, it is my duty to tell you that a warrant is held +against you for the wilful murder of your brother, Captain Barrington, +in the year 1786.”<br> +<br> +“I am ready to answer the charge.”<br> +<br> +“This I tell you as a magistrate. But as a man, and the +Squire of Rougham Grange, I’m right glad to see you, Ned, and +here’s my hand on it, and never will I believe that a good Tory +like yourself, and a man who could show his horse’s tail to any +field in the whole Down county, would ever be capable of so vile an +act.”<br> +<br> +“You do me justice, James,” said Lord Avon, clasping the +broad, brown hand which the country squire had held out to him. +“I am as innocent as you are; and I can prove it.”<br> +<br> +“Damned glad I am to hear it, Ned! That is to say, Lord +Avon, that any defence which you may have to make will be decided upon +by your peers and by the laws of your country.”<br> +<br> +“Until which time,” added Sir Lothian Hume, “a stout +door and a good lock will be the best guarantee that Lord Avon will +be there when called for.”<br> +<br> +The squire’s weather-stained face flushed to a deeper red as he +turned upon the Londoner.<br> +<br> +“Are you the magistrate of a county, sir?”<br> +<br> +“I have not the honour, Sir James.”<br> +<br> +“Then how dare you advise a man who has sat on the bench for nigh +twenty years! When I am in doubt, sir, the law provides me with +a clerk with whom I may confer, and I ask no other assistance.”<br> +<br> +“You take too high a tone in this matter, Sir James. I am +not accustomed to be taken to task so sharply.”<br> +<br> +“Nor am I accustomed, sir, to be interfered with in my official +duties. I speak as a magistrate, Sir Lothian, but I am always +ready to sustain my opinions as a man.”<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian bowed.<br> +<br> +“You will allow me to observe, sir, that I have personal interests +of the highest importance involved in this matter, I have every reason +to believe that there is a conspiracy afoot which will affect my position +as heir to Lord Avon’s titles and estates. I desire his +safe custody in order that this matter may be cleared up, and I call +upon you, as a magistrate, to execute your warrant.”<br> +<br> +“Plague take it, Ned!” cried the squire, “I would +that my clerk Johnson were here, for I would deal as kindly by you as +the law allows; and yet I am, as you hear, called upon to secure your +person.”<br> +<br> +“Permit me to suggest, sir,” said my uncle, “that +so long as he is under the personal supervision of the magistrate, he +may be said to be under the care of the law, and that this condition +will be fulfilled if he is under the roof of Rougham Grange.”<br> +<br> +“Nothing could be better,” cried the squire, heartily. +“You will stay with me, Ned, until this matter blows over. +In other words, Lord Avon, I make myself responsible, as the representative +of the law, that you are held in safe custody until your person may +be required of me.”<br> +<br> +“Yours is a true heart, James.”<br> +<br> +“Tut, tut! it is the due process of the law. I trust, Sir +Lothian Hume, that you find nothing to object to in it?”<br> +<br> +Sir Lothian shrugged his shoulders, and looked blackly at the magistrate. +Then he turned to my uncle.<br> +<br> +“There is a small matter still open between us,” said he. +“Would you kindly give me the name of a friend? Mr. Corcoran, +who is outside in my barouche, would act for me, and we might meet to-morrow +morning.”<br> +<br> +“With pleasure,” answered my uncle. “I dare +say your father would act for me, nephew? Your friend may call +upon Lieutenant Stone, of Friar’s Oak, and the sooner the better.”<br> +<br> +And so this strange conference ended. As for me, I had sprung +to the side of the old friend of my boyhood, and was trying to tell +him my joy at his good fortune, and listening to his assurance that +nothing that could ever befall him could weaken the love that he bore +me. My uncle touched me on the shoulder, and we were about to +leave, when Ambrose, whose bronze mask had been drawn down once more +over his fiery passions, came demurely towards him.<br> +<br> +“Beg your pardon, Sir Charles,” said he; “but it shocks +me very much to see your cravat.”<br> +<br> +“You are right, Ambrose,” my uncle answered. “Lorimer +does his best, but I have never been able to fill your place.”<br> +<br> +“I should be proud to serve you, sir; but you must acknowledge +that Lord Avon has the prior claim. If he will release me - ”<br> +<br> +“You may go, Ambrose; you may go!” cried Lord Avon. +“You are an excellent servant, but your presence has become painful +to me.”<br> +<br> +“Thank you, Ned,” said my uncle. “But you must +not leave me so suddenly again, Ambrose.”<br> +<br> +“Permit me to explain the reason, sir. I had determined +to give you notice when we reached Brighton; but as we drove from the +village that day, I caught a glimpse of a lady passing in a phaeton +between whom and Lord Avon I was well aware there was a close intimacy, +although I was not certain that she was actually his wife. Her +presence there confirmed me in my opinion that he was in hiding at Cliffe +Royal, and I dropped from your curricle and followed her at once, in +order to lay the matter before her, and explain how very necessary it +was that Lord Avon should see me.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I forgive you for your desertion, Ambrose,” said +my uncle; “and,” he added, “I should be vastly obliged +to you if you would re-arrange my tie.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXII - THE END<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Sir James Ovington’s carriage was waiting without, and in it the +Avon family, so tragically separated and so strangely re-united, were +borne away to the squire’s hospitable home. When they had +gone, my uncle mounted his curricle, and drove Ambrose and myself to +the village.<br> +<br> +“We had best see your father at once, nephew,” said he. +“Sir Lothian and his man started some time ago. I should +be sorry if there should be any hitch in our meeting.”<br> +<br> +For my part, I was thinking of our opponent’s deadly reputation +as a duellist, and I suppose that my features must have betrayed my +feelings, for my uncle began to laugh.<br> +<br> +“Why, nephew,” said he, “you look as if you were walking +behind my coffin. It is not my first affair, and I dare bet that +it will not be my last. When I fight near town I usually fire +a hundred or so in Manton’s back shop, but I dare say I can find +my way to his waistcoat. But I confess that I am somewhat <i>accablé</i>, +by all that has befallen us. To think of my dear old friend being +not only alive, but innocent as well! And that he should have +such a strapping son and heir to carry on the race of Avon! This +will be the last blow to Hume, for I know that the Jews have given him +rope on the score of his expectations. And you, Ambrose, that +you should break out in such a way!”<br> +<br> +Of all the amazing things which had happened, this seemed to have impressed +my uncle most, and he recurred to it again and again. That a man +whom he had come to regard as a machine for tying cravats and brewing +chocolate should suddenly develop fiery human passions was indeed a +prodigy. If his silver razor-heater had taken to evil ways he +could not have been more astounded.<br> +<br> +We were still a hundred yards from the cottage when I saw the tall, +green-coated Mr. Corcoran striding down the garden path. My father +was waiting for us at the door with an expression of subdued delight +upon his face.<br> +<br> +“Happy to serve you in any way, Sir Charles,” said he. +“We’ve arranged it for to-morrow at seven on Ditching Common.”<br> +<br> +“I wish these things could be brought off a little later in the +day,” said my uncle. “One has either to rise at a +perfectly absurd hour, or else to neglect one’s toilet.”<br> +<br> +“They are stopping across the road at the Friar’s Oak inn, +and if you would wish it later - ”<br> +<br> +“No, no; I shall make the effort. Ambrose, you will bring +up the <i>batteris</i> <i>de toilette </i>at five.”<br> +<br> +“I don’t know whether you would care to use my barkers,” +said my father. “I’ve had ’em in fourteen actions, +and up to thirty yards you couldn’t wish a better tool.”<br> +<br> +“Thank you, I have my duelling pistols under the seat. See +that the triggers are oiled, Ambrose, for I love a light pull. +Ah, sister Mary, I have brought your boy back to you, none the worse, +I hope, for the dissipations of town.”<br> +<br> +I need not tell you how my dear mother wept over me and fondled me, +for you who have mothers will know for yourselves, and you who have +not will never understand how warm and snug the home nest can be. +How I had chafed and longed for the wonders of town, and yet, now that +I had seen more than my wildest dreams had ever deemed possible, my +eyes had rested upon nothing which was so sweet and so restful as our +own little sitting-room, with its terra-cotta-coloured walls, and those +trifles which are so insignificant in themselves, and yet so rich in +memories - the blow-fish from the Moluccas, the narwhal’s horn +from the Arctic, and the picture of the <i>Ca Ira</i>, with Lord Hotham +in chase! How cheery, too, to see at one side of the shining grate +my father with his pipe and his merry red face, and on the other my +mother with her fingers ever turning and darting with her knitting-needles! +As I looked at them I marvelled that I could ever have longed to leave +them, or that I could bring myself to leave them again.<br> +<br> +But leave them I must, and that speedily, as I learned amidst the boisterous +congratulations of my father and the tears of my mother. He had +himself been appointed to the <i>Cato, </i>64, with post rank, whilst +a note had come from Lord Nelson at Portsmouth to say that a vacancy +was open for me if I should present myself at once.<br> +<br> +“And your mother has your sea-chest all ready, my lad, and you +can travel down with me to-morrow; for if you are to be one of Nelson’s +men, you must show him that you are worthy of it.”<br> +<br> +“All the Stones have been in the sea-service,” said my mother, +apologetically to my uncle, “and it is a great chance that he +should enter under Lord Nelson’s own patronage. But we can +never forget your kindness, Charles, in showing our dear Rodney something +of the world.”<br> +<br> +“On the contrary, sister Mary,” said my uncle, graciously, +“your son has been an excellent companion to me - so much so that +I fear that I am open to the charge of having neglected my dear Fidelio. +I trust that I bring him back somewhat more polished than I found him. +It would be folly to call him <i>distingué</i>, but he is at +least unobjectionable. Nature has denied him the highest gifts, +and I find him adverse to employing the compensating advantages of art; +but, at least, I have shown him something of life, and I have taught +him a few lessons in finesse and deportment which may appear to be wasted +upon him at present, but which, none the less, may come back to him +in his more mature years. If his career in town has been a disappointment +to me, the reason lies mainly in the fact that I am foolish enough to +measure others by the standard which I have myself set. I am well +disposed towards him, however, and I consider him eminently adapted +for the profession which he is about to adopt.”<br> +<br> +He held out his sacred snuff-box to me as he spoke, as a solemn pledge +of his goodwill, and, as I look back at him, there is no moment at which +I see him more plainly than that with the old mischievous light dancing +once more in his large intolerant eyes, one thumb in the armpit of his +vest, and the little shining box held out upon his snow-white palm. +He was a type and leader of a strange breed of men which has vanished +away from England - the full-blooded, virile buck, exquisite in his +dress, narrow in his thoughts, coarse in his amusements, and eccentric +in his habits. They walk across the bright stage of English history +with their finicky step, their preposterous cravats, their high collars, +their dangling seals, and they vanish into those dark wings from which +there is no return. The world has outgrown them, and there is +no place now for their strange fashions, their practical jokes, and +carefully cultivated eccentricities. And yet behind this outer +veiling of folly, with which they so carefully draped themselves, they +were often men of strong character and robust personality. The +languid loungers of St. James’s were also the yachtsmen of the +Solent, the fine riders of the shires, and the hardy fighters in many +a wayside battle and many a morning frolic. Wellington picked +his best officers from amongst them. They condescended occasionally +to poetry or oratory; and Byron, Charles James Fox, Sheridan, and Castlereagh, +preserved some reputation amongst them, in spite of their publicity. +I cannot think how the historian of the future can hope to understand +them, when I, who knew one of them so well, and bore his blood in my +veins, could never quite tell how much of him was real, and how much +was due to the affectations which he had cultivated so long that they +had ceased to deserve the name. Through the chinks of that armour +of folly I have sometimes thought that I had caught a glimpse of a good +and true man within, and it pleases me to hope that I was right.<br> +<br> +It was destined that the exciting incidents of that day were even now +not at an end. I had retired early to rest, but it was impossible +for me to sleep, for my mind would turn to Boy Jim and to the extraordinary +change in his position and prospects. I was still turning and +tossing when I heard the sound of flying hoofs coming down the London +Road, and immediately afterwards the grating of wheels as they pulled +up in front of the inn. My window chanced to be open, for it was +a fresh spring night, and I heard the creak of the inn door, and a voice +asking whether Sir Lothian Hume was within. At the name I sprang +from my bed, and I was in time to see three men, who had alighted from +the carriage, file into the lighted hall. The two horses were +left standing, with the glare of the open door falling upon their brown +shoulders and patient heads.<br> +<br> +Ten minutes may have passed, and then I heard the clatter of many steps, +and a knot of men came clustering through the door.<br> +<br> +“You need not employ violence,” said a harsh, clear voice. +“On whose suit is it?”<br> +<br> +“Several suits, sir. They ’eld over in the ’opes +that you’d pull off the fight this mornin’. Total +amounts is twelve thousand pound.”<br> +<br> +“Look here, my man, I have a very important appointment for seven +o’clock to-morrow. I’ll give you fifty pounds if you +will leave me until then.”<br> +<br> +“Couldn’t do it, sir, really. It’s more than +our places as sheriff’s officers is worth.”<br> +<br> +In the yellow glare of the carriage-lamp I saw the baronet look up at +our windows, and if hatred could have killed, his eyes would have been +as deadly as his pistol.<br> +<br> +“I can’t mount the carriage unless you free my hands,” +said he.<br> +<br> +“‘Old ’ard, Bill, for ’e looks vicious. +Let go o’ one arm at a time! Ah, would you then?”<br> +<br> +“Corcoran! Corcoran!” screamed a voice, and I saw +a plunge, a struggle, and one frantic figure breaking its way from the +rest. Then came a heavy blow, and down he fell in the middle of +the moonlit road, flapping and jumping among the dust like a trout new +landed.<br> +<br> +“He’s napped it this time! Get ’im by the wrists, +Jim! Now, all together!”<br> +<br> +He was hoisted up like a bag of flour, and fell with a brutal thud into +the bottom of the carriage. The three men sprang in after him, +a whip whistled in the darkness, and I had seen the last that I or any +one else, save some charitable visitor to a debtors’ gaol, was +ever again destined to see of Sir Lothian Hume, the once fashionable +Corinthian.<br> +<br> +<br> +Lord Avon lived for two years longer - long enough, with the help of +Ambrose, to fully establish his innocence of the horrible crime, in +the shadow of which he had lived so long. What he could not clear +away, however, was the effect of those years of morbid and unnatural +life spent in the hidden chambers of the old house; and it was only +the devotion of his wife and of his son which kept the thin and flickering +flame of his life alight. She whom I had known as the play actress +of Anstey Cross became the dowager Lady Avon; whilst Boy Jim, as dear +to me now as when we harried birds’ nests and tickled trout together, +is now Lord Avon, beloved by his tenantry, the finest sportsman and +the most popular man from the north of the Weald to the Channel. +He was married to the second daughter of Sir James Ovington; and as +I have seen three of his grandchildren within the week, I fancy that +if any of Sir Lothian’s descendants have their eye upon the property, +they are likely to be as disappointed as their ancestor was before them. +The old house of Cliffe Royal has been pulled down, owing to the terrible +family associations which hung round it, and a beautiful modern building +sprang up in its place. The lodge which stood by the Brighton +Road was so dainty with its trellis-work and its rose bushes that I +was not the only visitor who declared that I had rather be the owner +of it than of the great house amongst the trees. There for many +years in a happy and peaceful old age lived Jack Harrison and his wife, +receiving back in the sunset of their lives the loving care which they +had themselves bestowed. Never again did Champion Harrison throw +his leg over the ropes of a twenty-four-foot ring; but the story of +the great battle between the smith and the West Countryman is still +familiar to old ring-goers, and nothing pleased him better than to re-fight +it all, round by round, as he sat in the sunshine under his rose-girt +porch. But if he heard the tap of his wife’s stick approaching +him, his talk would break off at once into the garden and its prospects, +for she was still haunted by the fear that he would some day go back +to the ring, and she never missed the old man for an hour without being +convinced that he had hobbled off to wrest the belt from the latest +upstart champion. It was at his own very earnest request that +they inscribed “He fought the good fight” upon his tombstone, +and though I cannot doubt that he had Black Bank and Crab Wilson in +his mind when he asked it, yet none who knew him would grudge its spiritual +meaning as a summing up of his clean and manly life.<br> +<br> +Sir Charles Tregellis continued for some years to show his scarlet and +gold at Newmarket, and his inimitable coats in St. James’s. +It was he who invented buttons and loops at the ends of dress pantaloons, +and who broke fresh ground by his investigation of the comparative merits +of isinglass and of starch in the preparation of shirt-fronts. +There are old fops still lurking in the corners of Arthur’s or +of White’s who can remember Tregellis’s dictum, that a cravat +should be so stiffened that three parts of the length could be raised +by one corner, and the painful schism which followed when Lord Alvanley +and his school contended that a half was sufficient. Then came +the supremacy of Brummell, and the open breach upon the subject of velvet +collars, in which the town followed the lead of the younger man. +My uncle, who was not born to be second to any one, retired instantly +to St. Albans, and announced that he would make it the centre of fashion +and of society, instead of degenerate London. It chanced, however, +that the mayor and corporation waited upon him with an address of thanks +for his good intentions towards the town, and that the burgesses, having +ordered new coats from London for the occasion, were all arrayed in +velvet collars, which so preyed upon my uncle’s spirits that he +took to his bed, and never showed his face in public again. His +money, which had ruined what might have been a great life, was divided +amongst many bequests, an annuity to his valet, Ambrose, being amongst +them; but enough has come to his sister, my dear mother, to help to +make her old age as sunny and as pleasant as even I could wish.<br> +<br> +And as for me - the poor string upon which these beads are strung - +I dare scarce say another word about myself, lest this, which I had +meant to be the last word of a chapter, should grow into the first words +of a new one. Had I not taken up my pen to tell you a story of +the land, I might, perchance, have made a better one of the sea; but +the one frame cannot hold two opposite pictures. The day may come +when I shall write down all that I remember of the greatest battle ever +fought upon salt water, and how my father’s gallant life was brought +to an end as, with his paint rubbing against a French eighty-gun ship +on one side and a Spanish seventy-four upon the other he stood eating +an apple in the break of his poop. I saw the smoke banks on that +October evening swirl slowly up over the Atlantic swell, and rise, and +rise, until they had shredded into thinnest air, and lost themselves +in the infinite blue of heaven. And with them rose the cloud which +had hung over the country; and it also thinned and thinned, until God’s +own sun of peace and security was shining once more upon us, never more, +we hope, to be bedimmed.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RODNEY STONE ***<br> +<pre> + +******This file should be named rdst10h.htm or rdst10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, rdst11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rdst10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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