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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5148-0.txt b/5148-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c43cd79 --- /dev/null +++ b/5148-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10144 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rodney Stone, by Arthur Conan Doyle + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Rodney Stone + + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + + + +Release Date: July 27, 2014 [eBook #5148] +[This file was first posted on May 14, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODNEY STONE*** + + +Transcribed from the 1921 Eveleigh Nash & Grayson edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + RODNEY STONE + + + * * * * * + + By + A. CONAN DOYLE + + * * * * * + + London + EVELEIGH NASH & GRAYSON LTD. + 148, Strand + 1921 + + + + +PREFACE + + +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.” + +I am also much indebted to my friends Mr. J. C. Parkinson and Robert Barr +for information upon the subject of the ring. + + A. CONAN DOYLE. + +HASLEMERE, + _September_ 1, 1896. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. FRIAR’S OAK 1 + II. THE WALKER OF CLIFFE ROYAL 18 + III. THE PLAY-ACTRESS OF ANSTEY CROSS 33 + IV. THE PEACE OF AMIENS 50 + V. BUCK TREGELLIS 65 + VI. ON THE THRESHOLD 86 + VII. THE HOPE OF ENGLAND 98 + VIII. THE BRIGHTON ROAD 121 + IX. WATIER’S 136 + X. THE MEN OF THE RING 153 + XI. THE FIGHT IN THE COACH-HOUSE 179 + XII. THE COFFEE-ROOM OF FLADONG’S 201 + XIII. LORD NELSON 221 + XIV. ON THE ROAD 234 + XV. FOUL PLAY 253 + XVI. CRAWLEY DOWNS 261 + XVII. THE RING-SIDE 277 + XVIII. THE SMITH’S LAST BATTLE 294 + XIX. CLIFFE ROYAL 314 + XX. LORD AVON 326 + XXI. THE VALET’S STORY 340 + XXII. THE END 355 + + + + +CHAPTER I. +FRIAR’S OAK. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“What’s that?” cried the driver, pulling up his team. + +“I bid you have a care, master, or there will be some one-eyed folk along +the road you drive.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“I’ll pay you for your advice, my man,” said he. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Have a care, master,” said he. “You’ll get pepper if you don’t.” + +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. + +“By Gad!” he cried, “it’s Jack Harrison!” + +“My name, master!” + +“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.” + +How they roared on the coach. + +“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.” + +But the driver had already climbed back into his perch, laughing as +loudly as any of his companions. + +“We’ll let you off this time, Harrison,” said he. “Are those your sons +down there?” + +“This is my nephew, master.” + +“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. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +THE WALKER OF CLIFFE ROYAL. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +And it was not long before he made good his promise. + +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. + +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. + +It was this pride of Boy Jim’s which led to an adventure which makes me +shiver now when I think of it. + +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. + +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. + +“Roddy,” said he, “have you heard that Cliffe Royal is haunted?” + +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? + +“Do you know the story of it, Roddy?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Tell me the story, Roddy.” + +“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. + +“And Lord Avon did it?” + +“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.” + +“Did they hang him, then?” + +“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.” + +“And the ghost walks?” + +“There are many who have seen it.” + +“Why is the house still empty?” + +“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.” + +Jim lay silent for a bit, plucking at the short grass with his fingers. + +“Roddy,” said he at last, “will you come with me to-night and look for +the ghost?” + +It turned me cold, the very thought of it. + +“My mother would not let me.” + +“Slip out when she’s abed. I’ll wait for you at the smithy.” + +“Cliffe Royal is locked.” + +“I’ll open a window easy enough.” + +“I’m afraid, Jim.” + +“But you are not afraid if you are with me, Roddy. I’ll promise you that +no ghost shall hurt you.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“We’re in luck, Roddy,” whispered Jim. “Here’s one of the windows open.” + +“Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough, Jim?” said I, with my teeth +chattering. + +“I’ll lift you in first.” + +“No, no, I’ll not go first.” + +“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. + +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. + +“What an old drum of a place it is!” he cried; “we’ll strike a light, +Roddy, and see where we are.” + +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. + +“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. + +“This is where they played the cards, Jim,” said I, in a hushed voice. +“It was on that very table.” + +“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. + +“I wonder whence that stair leads?” said Jim. + +“Don’t go up there, Jim!” I cried, clutching at his arm. “That must lead +to the room of the murder.” + +“How do you know that?” + +“The vicar said that they saw on the ceiling—Oh, Jim, you can see it even +now!” + +He held up his candle, and there was a great, dark smudge upon the white +plaster above us. + +“I believe you’re right,” said he; “but anyhow I’m going to have a look +at it.” + +“Don’t, Jim, don’t!” I cried. + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Can you stand, Roddy?” + +“Yes, but I’m shaking.” + +“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.” + +“Could it have been a man, Jim?” I asked, plucking up my courage now that +I could hear the dogs barking on the farms. + +“It was a spirit, Rodney.” + +“How do you know?” + +“Because I followed it and saw it vanish into a wall, as easily as an eel +into sand. Why, Roddy, what’s amiss now?” + +My fears were all back upon me, and every nerve creeping with horror. + +“Take me away, Jim! Take me away!” I cried. + +I was glaring down the avenue, and his eyes followed mine. Amid the +gloom of the oak trees something was coming towards us. + +“Quiet, Roddy!” whispered Jim. “By heavens, come what may, my arms are +going round it this time.” + +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. + +Jim sprang upon it like a tiger. + +“_You’re_ not a spirit, anyway!” he cried. + +The man gave a shout of surprise, and then a growl of rage. + +“What the deuce!” he roared, and then, “I’ll break your neck if you don’t +let go.” + +The threat might not have loosened Jim’s grip, but the voice did. + +“Why, uncle!” he cried. + +“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?” + +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. + +“We’re exploring,” said Jim. + +“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?” + +“I’m not afraid, uncle. I never was afraid; but spirits are new to me, +and—” + +“Spirits?” + +“I’ve been in Cliffe Royal, and we’ve seen the ghost.” + +The Champion gave a whistle. + +“That’s the game, is it?” said he. “Did you have speech with it?” + +“It vanished first.” + +The Champion whistled once more. + +“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.” + +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. + +“What took _you_ up to Cliffe Royal, uncle?” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE PLAY-ACTRESS OF ANSTEY CROSS. + + +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. + +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. + +“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?” + +“We are the people of England!” cried young Master Ovington, the son of +the Tory Squire. + +“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.” + +We thought him very wicked then, but, looking back, I am not sure that we +were not very wicked ourselves. + +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. + +“Do you fight, Dan?” asked Tom. + +“Yes, Tom; thou must fight for it.” + +On which Tom drew his pistol, and blew Dan’s brains out. + +“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.” + +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— + + “Alas! Swift flew the fatal lead + Which piercéd through the young man’s head. + He instantly fell, resigned his breath, + And closed his languid eyes in death.” + +There was more of it, and I dare say it is all still to be read in +Patcham Churchyard. + +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. + +“Good gracious!” she cried. “What a vulgar-looking woman!” + +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. + +“What a dreadful sight!” cried my mother. + +“What is amiss with her, mother?” + +“Heaven forgive me if I misjudge her, Rodney, but I think that the +unfortunate woman has been drinking.” + +“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. + +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. + +“Is that he?” I heard her ask. + +Champion Harrison nodded. + +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. + +“I hope—I hope you’re well,” she stammered. + +“Very well, ma’am,” said Jim, staring from her to his uncle. + +“And happy too?” + +“Yes, ma’am, I thank you.” + +“Nothing that you crave for?” + +“Why, no, ma’am, I have all that I lack.” + +“That will do, Jim,” said his uncle, in a stern voice. “Blow up the +forge again, for that shoe wants reheating.” + +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. + +“To-morrow, then?” she cried loud out. + +“To-morrow,” he answered. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“I don’t want her help, uncle, and I don’t want to see her.” + +“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.” + +“What would she want to talk with such as me about?” + +“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.” + +“Well, uncle, I’ll go if Roddy Stone will go with me,” said Jim. + +“Of course he’ll go. Won’t you, Master Rodney?” + +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. + +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. + +“Miss Hinton cannot see you,” said she. + +“But she asked us to come,” said Jim. + +“I can’t help that,” cried the woman, in a rude voice. “I tell you that +she can’t see you.” + +We stood irresolute for a minute. + +“Maybe you would just tell her I am here,” said Jim, at last. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“You’ll not tell any one, Roddy,” said he. + +“Not unless it’s my mother.” + +“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.” + +“She was so yesterday, Jim.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“My uncle has had a letter,” said he. “She would speak with me, and I +would be easier if you came with me, Rod.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“Boy Jim, ma’am,” said I. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Come now, little man,” said she to me, when the table had been cleared. +“Why are you looking round so much?” + +“Because there are so many pretty things upon the walls.” + +“And which do you think the prettiest of them?” + +“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. + +“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.” + +I did as she asked, and read out: “Miss Polly Hinton, as ‘Peggy,’ in _The +Country Wife_, played for her benefit at the Haymarket Theatre, September +14th, 1782.” + +“It’s a play-actress,” said I. + +“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?” + +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. + +“Why, where are your eyes?” she cried at last. “_I_ was Miss Polly +Hinton of the Haymarket Theatre. And perhaps you never heard the name +before?” + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +“I have never been inside a play-house,” said he; “I know nothing of +them.” + +“Nor I either.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _Pizarro_.” + +“And who wrote it, ma’am?” + +“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.” + +“And you play no longer, ma’am?” + +“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.” + +“It was but the thought of that poor woman and her child.” + +“Tut, never think about her! I will soon wipe her from your mind. This +is ‘Miss Priscilla Tomboy,’ from _The Romp_. You must conceive that the +mother is speaking, and that the forward young minx is answering.” + +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. + +“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.” + +She vanished into her cupboard, and came out with a bottle and glass, +which she placed upon the table. + +“You are too young for strong waters,” she said, “but this talking gives +one a dryness, and—” + +Then it was that Boy Jim did a wonderful thing. He rose from his chair, +and he laid his hand upon the bottle. + +“Don’t!” said he. + +She looked him in the face, and I can still see those black eyes of hers +softening before the gaze. + +“Am I to have none?” + +“Please, don’t.” + +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. + +“There, Jim!” said she; “does that satisfy you? It’s long since any one +cared whether I drank or no.” + +“You are too good and kind for that,” said he. + +“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.” + +“What’s that, miss?” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +THE PEACE OF AMIENS. + + +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. + +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. + +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 +_Theseus_, 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 _Aurora_ +frigate, engaged in cutting off supplies from Genoa, and in her he still +remained until long after peace was declared. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Here’s Rod,” said my mother at last, struggling down on to the ground +again. “Roddy, darling, here’s your father!” + +I saw the red face and the kindly, light-blue eyes looking out at me. + +“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—” + +The blue arms flew out, and there were the skirt and the two feet fixed +in the door again. + +“Here are the folk coming, Anson,” said my mother, blushing. “Won’t you +get out and come in with us?” + +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. + +“Oh, Anson, Anson!” she cried. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _Ca Ira_ +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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“And leave me without a child as well as without a husband!” cried my +mother. + +“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?” + +“Yes, father,” said I, with some confidence. + +“Then how many sail of the line were at the Battle of Camperdown?” + +He shook his head gravely when he found that I could not answer him. + +“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 _Ca +Ira_. Which were the ships that laid her aboard?” + +Again I had to confess that he had beaten me. + +“Well, your dad can teach you something in history yet,” he cried, +looking in triumph at my mother. “Have you learned geography?” + +“Yes, father,” said I, though with less confidence than before. + +“Well, how far is it from Port Mahon to Algeciras?” + +I could only shake my head. + +“If Ushant lay three leagues upon your starboard quarter, what would be +your nearest English port?” + +Again I had to give it up. + +“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.” + +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. + +“You never asked me about that, Mary,” said he. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Two hundred and eighty pounds,” I answered. + +“Why, Anson, it is a fortune!” cried my mother, clapping her hands. + +“Try you again, Roddy!” said he, shaking his pipe at me. “There was the +_Xebec_ 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?” + +“A hundred pounds.” + +“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 _La Sabina_ 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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +I tried to explain that addition was the same upon sea or land, but that +history and geography were not. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“Whom think you that it is from, Anson?” she asked. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Ay, and what does he want?” asked he, in no very amiable voice. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Thank God that you never had to stoop to it, Mary. I want none of his +help.” + +“But we must think of Rodney.” + +“Rodney has enough for his sea-chest and kit. He needs no more.” + +“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.” + +“Let us hear what he says, then,” said my father; and this was the letter +which she read to him— + + 14, Jermyn Street, St. James’s, + “April 15th, 1803. + + “MY DEAR SISTER MARY, + + “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 _des plus charmantes_ 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 (_Mon dieu_, _quel nom_!), 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. + + “I am ever, my dear sister Mary, + “Your brother, + “CHARLES TREGELLIS.” + +“What do you think of that?” cried my mother in triumph when she had +finished. + +“I think it is the letter of a fop,” said my father, bluntly. + +“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!” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +BUCK TREGELLIS. + + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +“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?” + +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. + +“The Army or the Navy is the place for you, Jim,” said I. + +“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.” + +“An officer gets his orders from those above him.” + +“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.” + +“I know that you are as proud as Lucifer,” said I. + +“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.” + +“Where is that, Jim?” + +“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.” + +“How?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“My dear Mary,” it ran, “I have stopped at the inn, because I am somewhat +_ravagé_ 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. _Toujours à toi_.—Charles.” + +“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.” + +A smile flickered over the dark face of the servant, but his features +reset themselves instantly into their usual mask of respectful +observance. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +The man went off noiselessly and swiftly, but was back in a few minutes +with a flat brown basket. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“How old are you, nephew?” he asked. + +“Seventeen, sir.” + +“You look older. You look eighteen, at the least. I find him very +passable, Mary—very passable, indeed. He has not the _bel_ air, the +_tournure_—in our uncouth English we have no word for it. But he is as +healthy as a May-hedge in bloom.” + +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. + +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. + +“Shall I convey it to your bedchamber, Sir Charles?” he asked. + +“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 _batterie de toilette_ 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.” + +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. + +“You number yourself in an illustrious company by dipping your finger and +thumb into it,” said he. + +“Indeed, sir!” said my father, shortly. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.’ + +“A bishop!” cried my father. “You draw your line very high, sir.” + +“Yes, sir,” said my uncle; “I wish no better epitaph upon my tombstone.” + +My mother had in the meanwhile descended, and we all drew up to the +table. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _Times_ or the _Morning Chronicle_.” + +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. + +“As to the King,” said he, “of course, I am _l’ami de famille_ there; and +even with you I can scarce speak freely, as my relations are +confidential.” + +“God bless him and keep him from ill!” cried my father. + +“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.” + +“And the Prince?” asked my mother. “Is he well-favoured?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“I suppose,” said he, “that this is your first visit to Friar’s Oak?” + +My uncle’s face turned suddenly very grave and stern. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Was it at the inn you stayed?” he asked. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +My father nodded. + +“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, _les +indescrétions d’une jeunesse dorée_, I could have sworn that he was as +good a man as I have ever known.” + +“How came he, then, to such a crime?” asked my father. + +My uncle shook his head. + +“Many a time have I asked myself that question, and it comes home to me +more to-night than ever.” + +All the jauntiness had gone out of his manner, and he had turned suddenly +into a sad and serious man. + +“Was it certain that he did it, Charles?” asked my mother. + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +“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?” + +“Nay, I have heard nothing of it,” my father answered. + +“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. + +“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. + +“Next morning I was awakened by finding him at my bedside. + +“‘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.’ + +“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. + +“‘Neither I nor my brother will touch it,’ said he. ‘There it lies, and +you may do what you like about it.’ + +“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.” + +My father was sitting with staring eyes, and his forgotten pipe reeking +in his hand. + +“Pray let us hear the end of it, sir,” he cried. + +“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—” + +My uncle had turned quite pale with the vividness of the memory, and he +passed his hand over his eyes. + +“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?” + +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. + +“And what said Lord Avon?” cried my father. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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—” + +“It still bears the stain,” said I. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“There is truth in that,” said be, thoughtfully. “You saw no features, +you say?” + +“It was too dark.” + +“But only a figure?” + +“The dark outline of one.” + +“And it retreated up the stairs?” + +“Yes.” + +“And vanished into the wall?” + +“Yes.” + +“What part of the wall?” cried a voice from behind us. + +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. + +“What the deuce is the meaning of this, sir?” cried my uncle. + +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. + +“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.” + +“I never knew you forget yourself before,” said my uncle. + +“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. + +“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 _triste_, sister Mary, and +now we shall return, if you please, to the dresses of the Countess +Lieven, and the gossip of St. James.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +ON THE THRESHOLD. + + +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. + +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. + +“You won’t forget us, Roddy? You won’t forget us?” + +“Why, mother, what is it?” + +“Your uncle, Roddy—he is going to take you away from us.” + +“When, mother?” + +“To-morrow.” + +God forgive me, how my heart bounded for joy, when hers, which was within +touch of it, was breaking with sorrow! + +“Oh, mother!” I cried. “To London?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“I’ll not go if it is to grieve you,” I cried. + +“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.” + +“I promise you, mother.” + +“And you will be careful of wine, Roddy? You are young and unused to +it.” + +“Yes, mother.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“Well, nephew,” he cried, “what do you think of the prospect of coming to +town with me?” + +“I thank you, sir, for the kind interest which you take in me,” said I. + +“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.” + +“You’ll find him a chip of good wood, sir,” said my father. + +“We must make him a polished chip before we have done with him. Your +aim, my dear nephew, must always be to be in _bon ton_. 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.” + +“I fear, Charles, that Roddy’s wardrobe is country-made,” said my mother. + +“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.” + +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. + +“The clothes are very well for Friar’s Oak, sister Mary,” said he. “And +yet you can understand that they might seem _rococo_ in the Mall. If you +leave him in my hands I shall see to the matter.” + +“On how much, sir,” asked my father, “can a young man dress in town?” + +“With prudence and reasonable care, a young man of fashion can dress upon +eight hundred a year,” my uncle answered. + +I saw my poor father’s face grow longer. + +“I fear, sir, that Roddy must keep his country clothes,” said he. “Even +with my prize-money—” + +“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. + +My parents tried to thank him, but he cut them short. + +“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.” + +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. + +“God bless me, sir! Who’d ha’ thought of seein’ you at Friar’s Oak? Why, +Sir Charles, it brings old memories back to look at your face again.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Yes, the Bristol yellowman has been the winning colour of late. How +d’ye do, Mrs. Harrison? I don’t suppose you remember me?” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“Come, wifie,” said Harrison, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ve been +cut up in my time, but never as bad as that.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“You’ll keep your hat on your head like an honest, God-fearing man, +John,” said his wife, turning back into the house. + +“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.” + +“Well, it’s no use, sir,” said Harrison, “but I’d be glad to hear about +it all the same.” + +“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.” + +Harrison shook his head. “Never heard of him, sir.” + +“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.” + +“Sparrin’ ain’t fightin’,” said the smith. + +“I am told that he had the best of it in a by-battle with Noah James, of +Cheshire.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“‘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.” + +“It won’t do, Sir Charles,” said the smith, shaking his head. “There’s +nothing would please me better, but you heard for yourself.” + +“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. + +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. + +“That’s my nephew, Sir Charles.” + +“Is he living with you?” + +“His parents are dead.” + +“Has he ever been in London?” + +“No, Sir Charles. He’s been with me here since he was as high as that +hammer.” + +My uncle turned to Boy Jim. + +“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?” + +Boy Jim’s dark eyes sparkled with pleasure. + +“I should be glad to come, sir.” + +“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.” + +“Tut, Harrison, let the lad come!” cried my uncle. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Let go her head!” cried he to the ostler, and with a snap, a crack, and +a jingle, away we went upon our journey. + +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. + +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? + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +THE HOPE OF ENGLAND. + + +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. + +“You sing, don’t you, nephew?” he asked, suddenly. + +“Yes, sir, a little.” + +“A baritone, I should fancy?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“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 _bon ton_ to +be learned, but it is a graceful thing to indicate that you have +forgotten a good deal. Can you write verse?” + +“I fear not, sir.” + +“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?” + +It made me laugh, the easy way in which he asked the question, as if it +were a most natural thing to possess. + +“You have a pleasant, catching laugh, at all events,” said he. “But an +eccentricity is very _bon ton_ 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?” + +My fears told me that it might be my own very great discomfiture, but I +did not say so. + +“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?” + +I confessed that I had not. + +“You should begin now in your youth. I will myself teach you the _coup +d’archet_. 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.” + +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. + +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. + +“Ambrose,” he cried, “you may take Fidelio.” + +But there came no answer. The seat behind was unoccupied. Ambrose was +gone. + +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? + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Halloa, Charlie! Good drive down?” he cried. + +My uncle bowed and smiled to the lady. + +“Broke it at Friar’s Oak,” said he. “I’ve my light curricle and two new +mares—half thorough-bred, half Cleveland bay.” + +“What d’you think of my team of blacks?” asked the other. + +“Yes, Sir Charles, what d’you think of them? Ain’t they damnation +smart?” cried the little woman. + +“Plenty of power. Good horses for the Sussex clay. Too thick about the +fetlocks for me. I like to travel.” + +“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.” + +“By George, yes, Letty is right!” cried the man. “D’you start +to-morrow?” + +“Yes, Jack.” + +“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?” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“It was dreadful to hear her,” said I. + +“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.” + +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. + +“I have de goot news, Sir Charles,” said he, sinking his voice as one who +speaks of weighty measures. “_Es ist vollendet_—dat is, I have it at +last thoroughly done.” + +“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.” + +“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 _vol-au-vent_ dat is worth one +hundred tousand pound. Ten per cent., and double to be repaid when de +Royal pappa die. _Alles ist fertig_. Goldshmidt of de Hague have took +it up, and de Dutch public has subscribe de money.” + +“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 _filet sauté aux +champignons_. He manages his master’s money affairs.” + +“The cook!” I exclaimed, in bewilderment. + +“You look surprised, nephew.” + +“I should have thought that some respectable banking firm—” + +My uncle inclined his lips to my ear. + +“No respectable house would touch them,” he whispered. “Ah, Mellish, is +the Prince within?” + +“In the private saloon, Sir Charles,” said the gentleman addressed. + +“Any one with him?” + +“Sheridan and Francis. He said he expected you.” + +“Then we shall go through.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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?” + +“I wouldn’t have intruded, your Royal Highness, but I must have the +money—or even a thousand on account would do.” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“That’s the very place for a furniture man,” said the man with the red +nose. + +“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.” + +“I think, sir, that the Commons would respond now if the matter were +fairly put before them by Charlie Fox or myself,” said Sheridan. + +The Prince burst out against the Commons with an energy of hatred that +one would scarce expect from that chubby, good-humoured face. + +“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 +_his_ 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?” + +My uncle put his hand on my sleeve and led me forward. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Yes, sir,” said I. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _Minerve_—hey, Tregellis?” + +“No, sir,” said my uncle. Sheridan and Francis exchanged glances behind +the Prince’s back. + +“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.” + +“Well, sir! Well, sir! And what then, sir?” cried Francis, who appeared +to be an irascible, rough-tongued man. + +“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?” + +“I was in London at the time,” said Sheridan, gravely. + +“You can vouch for it, Francis!” + +“I can vouch to having heard your Highness tell the story.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“You killed your man—?” + +“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 _was_ +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—” + +“But the duel, Tregellis!” cried the Prince. + +“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 +_tracasserie_, 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.” + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +“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.” + +“Hang it, Charlie, you know that I sink or swim with my friends! A Whig +I started, and a Whig I shall remain.” + +I thought that I could read upon Fox’s dark face that he was by no means +so confident about the Prince’s principles. + +“Pitt has been at you, sir, I understand?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“I can’t get any exercise for the gout,” said Fox. + +“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!” + +Fox smiled and shook his head. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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 _incog._ many a +time, but never as the Prince of Wales.” + +“We should be vastly honoured if you would come _incog._ to our supper, +sir.” + +“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.” + +“Sir, we shall be proud to see the Earl of Chester there,” said my uncle. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +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? + +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.” + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +THE BRIGHTON ROAD. + + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Is our tandem out?” + +“It is at the door.” + +“Come, then, and you shall have such a drive as you never had before.” + +He stood at the door pulling on his long brown driving-gauntlets and +giving his orders to the ostlers. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“It’s a hundred that you don’t see us before Westminster with a quarter +of an hour’s start,” said Sir John. + +“I’ll take you another hundred that we pass you,” answered my uncle. + +“Very good. Time’s up. Good-bye!” He gave a _tchk_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“If he has sprung his cattle up all these hills they’ll be spent ere they +see Croydon,” said he. + +“They have four to two,” said I. + +“_J’en suis bien sûr_. 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?” + +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. + +“Do you drive, nephew?” + +“Very little, sir.” + +“There is no driving on the Brighton Road.” + +“How is that, sir?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“Just gone, sir.” + +“Going hard?” + +“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.” + +_Z-z-z-z-ack_! 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. + +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. + +“There’s half the game won, nephew. Now we must pass them. Hark +forrard, my beauties! By George, if Kitty isn’t foundered!” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Where on earth have they got to?” cried my uncle. “Can you make them +out on the road, nephew?” + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Dusty work!” said my uncle, quietly. + +“Fan ’em, Jack! Fan ’em!” shrieked the lady. + +He sprang up and lashed at his horses. + +“Look out, Tregellis!” he shouted. “There’s a damnation spill coming for +somebody.” + +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. + +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. + +“I lead!” shouted my uncle. “You must pull them, Lade!” + +“Not I!” he roared. + +“No, by George!” shrieked her ladyship. “Fan ’em, Jack; keep on fanning +’em!” + +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. + +“Jam them, Jack!” she cried. “Jam the—before they can pass.” + +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. + +“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 _mauvaise plaisanterie_ of that sort. +He shall hear from me to-night.” + +“It was the lady,” said I. + +My uncle’s brow cleared, and he began to laugh. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _les +petites cheries_ 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.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +WATIER’S. + + +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 _des petites cadeaux_,” said he, “but it would be +an indiscretion for me to say more.” + +We found a note from Ambrose waiting for us which increased rather than +explained the mystery of his disappearance. + +“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.” + +“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. _Je +suis desolé_! 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 +_en retraite_.” + +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. + +“Why, George,” cried my uncle, “I thought you were with your regiment.” + +“I’ve sent in my papers,” drawled the other. + +“I thought it would come to that.” + +“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.” + +“How was that?” + +“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.” + +My uncle laughed, and Brummell looked me up and down with his large, +intolerant eyes. + +“These will do very passably,” said he. “Buff and blue are always very +gentlemanlike. But a sprigged waistcoat would have been better.” + +“I think not,” said my uncle, warmly. + +“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.” + +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. + +“You must not let anything I have said shake your faith in Sir Charles’s +judgment, Mr. Stone,” said Brummell, very earnestly. + +I assured him that I should not. + +“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?” + +“From Sussex, sir.” + +“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?” + +“You don’t hunt, George?” + +“When I do, it’s a woman. But surely you don’t go to hounds, Charles?” + +“I was out with the Belvoir last winter.” + +“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!” + +“I have been out of town.” + +“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. + +“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 _vis-à-vis_, and I will show you +something of the town.” + +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. + +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 Mall 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. + +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 _strong_ age, and you will be fortunate if in your time the country +produces five such names as Pitt, Fox, Scott, Nelson, and Wellington. + +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. + +“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.” + +“Why did he do that, sir?” I asked, in astonishment. + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +“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!” + +“Evening, Tregellis!” An elderly, vacant-looking man had stopped before +us and was looking me up and down. + +“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?” + +“For a few days.” + +“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. + +“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. ‘_L’homme laid_’ they called him +in Paris. The other one is Lord Foley—they call him No. 11, on account +of his thin legs.” + +“There is Mr. Brummell, sir,” said I. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“What did Lord Merton do?” + +“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.” + +“I think not,” answered my uncle. “It would be a mistake to overwhelm +one by attentions which are a pleasure to many.” + +“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.” + +“Bailiffs?” asked one of his companions. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“The English are excellent at a flat-iron or a kitchen poker, but +anything more delicate is beyond them.” + +“Our tailors are good,” cried my uncle, “but our stuffs lack taste and +variety. The war has made us more _rococo_ 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.” + +“The Prince took it up.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I went early,” said my uncle, “for I had heard that there were to be +some tolerable _débutantes_. 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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +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. + +“Lost like the deuce,” he snapped. + +“Dice?” + +“No, whist.” + +“You couldn’t get very hard hit over that.” + +“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.” + +My uncle was evidently struck by the haggard look upon the other’s face. + +“I hope it’s not very bad,” he said. + +“Bad enough. It won’t bear talking about. By the way, Tregellis, have +you got your man for this fight yet?” + +“No.” + +“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.” + +“If you will name your day I shall produce my man, Sir Lothian,” said my +uncle, coldly. + +“This day four weeks, if you like.” + +“Very good. The 18th of May.” + +“I hope to have changed my name by then!” + +“How is that?” asked my uncle, in surprise. + +“It is just possible that I may be Lord Avon.” + +“What, you have had some news?” cried my uncle, and I noticed a tremor in +his voice. + +“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—” + +“I won’t have you use that word, Sir Lothian,” cried my uncle, sharply. + +“You were there as I was. You know that he was a murderer.” + +“I tell you that you shall not say so.” + +Sir Lothian’s fierce little grey eyes had to lower themselves before the +imperious anger which shone in my uncle’s. + +“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.” + +“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 _his_ +rights also are respected.” + +“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. + +“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?” + +“Certainly.” + +“I shall bring Crab Wilson with me, and finally arrange the conditions of +our little wager.” + +“Very good, Sir Lothian: I shall hope to see you.” They bowed, and my +uncle stood a little time looking after him as he made his way amidst the +crowd. + +“A good sportsman, nephew,” said he. “A bold rider, the best pistol-shot +in England, but . . . a dangerous man!” + + + + +CHAPTER X. +THE MEN OF THE RING. + + +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. + +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 _blasé_ 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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“Quite right, Bob! How are you all? How are you, Maddox? How are you, +Baldwin? Ah, Belcher, I am very glad to see you.” + +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. + +“How are you, Berks?” + +“Pretty tidy. ’Ow are you?” + +“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. + +“See now, Jem, none o’ that!” said Berks, sulkily. + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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!” + +“What’s the news of Friar’s Oak?” I asked eagerly. + +“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.” + +“And Boy Jim?” + +Champion Harrison’s good-humoured face clouded over. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Why, Jack Harrison!” he cried. “This is a resurrection. Where in the +world did you come from?” + +“Glad to see you, Jackson,” said my companion. “You look as well and as +young as ever.” + +“Thank you, yes. I resigned the belt when I could get no one to fight me +for it, and I took to teaching.” + +“I’m doing smith’s work down Sussex way.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +Harrison’s eyes glistened at the idea, but he shook his head. + +“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?” + +“Yes, that’s Jem. You’ve not seen him! He’s a jewel.” + +“So I’ve heard. Who’s the youngster beside him? He looks a tidy chap.” + +“That’s a new man from the West. Crab Wilson’s his name.” + +Harrison looked at him with interest. “I’ve heard of him,” said he. +“They are getting a match on for him, ain’t they?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Here’s the Prince,” said Jackson, as a hum and bustle rose from the +door. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“You must keep yourself in hand to-night, Berks,” said Jackson. “The +Prince is here, and—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Where’s that, gov’nor?” + +“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.” + +“No ’arm, gov’nor,” grumbled Berks. “I’m sure I’ve always ’ad the name +of bein’ a very genelman-like man.” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“D’you draw their cork in return?” asked Harrison. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“But if they don’t?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Youth will be served,” said a crooning voice from the other side of the +table. “Ay, masters, youth will be served.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“’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.” + +“Youth will be served, masters,” droned the old man, shaking his head +miserably. + +“Fill up ’is glass,” said Warr. “’Ere, Tom, give old Buckhorse a sup o’ +liptrap. Warm his ’eart for ’im.” + +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. + +“There’s Buckhorse!” they cried. “Buckhorse is comin’ round again.” + +“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.” + +The company laughed again, and encouraged the old man by half-derisive +and half-affectionate cries. + +“Let ’em ’ave it, Buckhorse! Give it ’em straight! Tell us how the +millin’ coves did it in your time.” + +The old gladiator looked round him in great contempt. + +“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.” + +“Give ’im a wipe over the mouth,” said a hoarse voice. + +“Joe Berks,” said Jackson, “I’d save the hangman the job of breaking your +neck if His Royal Highness wasn’t in the room.” + +“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—” + +“Sit down, Berks!” cried my uncle, with such a tone of command that the +fellow collapsed into his chair. + +“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?” + +“What was that, Buckhorse?” cried several voices. + +“’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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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?” + +“Yell, boys, that vas vat _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.” + +“Well? Well?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +Jackson having replied with a readiness which many a public man might +have envied, my uncle rose once more. + +“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.” + +Sir Lothian rose with a paper in his hand. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“I’ve seen him half a dozen times at the least,” said Belcher. + +“It is precisely for that reason, Sir John, that I am laying odds of two +to one in his favour.” + +“May I ask,” said the Prince, “what the exact height and weight of Wilson +may be?” + +“Five foot eleven and thirteen-ten, your Royal Highness.” + +“Long enough and heavy enough for anything on two legs,” said Jackson, +and the professionals all murmured their assent. + +“Read the rules of the fight, Sir Lothian.” + +“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?” + +My uncle bowed. + +“Have you anything to say, Wilson?” + +The young pugilist, who had a curious, lanky figure, and a craggy, bony +face, passed his fingers through his close-cropped hair. + +“If you please, zir,” said he, with a slight west-country burr, “a +twenty-voot ring is too small for a thirteen-stone man.” + +There was another murmur of professional agreement. + +“What would you have it, Wilson?” + +“Vour-an’-twenty, Sir Lothian.” + +“Have you any objection, Sir Charles?” + +“Not the slightest.” + +“Anything else, Wilson?” + +“If you please, zir, I’d like to know whom I’m vighting with.” + +“I understand that you have not publicly nominated your man, Sir +Charles?” + +“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.” + +“Certainly, if you choose to exercise it.” + +“I do so intend. And I should be vastly pleased if Mr. Berkeley Craven +will consent to be stake-holder.” + +That gentleman having willingly given his consent, the final formalities +which led up to these humble tournaments were concluded. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, “there is a stranger waiting below who desires a +fight to a finish with the best men in the room.” + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +THE FIGHT IN THE COACH-HOUSE. + + +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. + +“Is this genuine?” asked my uncle. + +“Yes, Sir Charles,” answered the landlord; “the man is waiting below.” + +“It’s a kid!” cried several of the fighting-men. “Some cove is a +gammonin’ us.” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“What weight is he, Bill?” asked Jem Belcher. + +“He’s close on six foot, and I should put him well into the thirteen +stones when he’s buffed.” + +“Heavy metal!” cried Jackson. “Who takes him on?” + +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. + +“Well, you can’t all fight him,” remarked Jackson, when the babel had +died away. “It’s for the chairman to choose.” + +“Perhaps your Royal Highness has a preference,” said my uncle. + +“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!” + +“I’ve seen your Royal Highness, and I have felt your Royal Highness,” +said the courtly Jackson. + +“Perhaps Jem Belcher would give us an exhibition,” said my uncle. + +Belcher smiled and shook his handsome head. + +“There’s my brother Tom here has never been blooded in London yet, sir. +He might make a fairer match of it.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Wait a bit, Berks,” cried several of the amateurs. “Where’s it going to +be held?” + +“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.” + +“They can’t fight here with all this litter,” said my uncle. “Where +shall it be?” + +“’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.” + +“You are right, sir. We must have him up.” + +“That’s easy enough,” said the landlord, “for here he comes through the +doorway.” + +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. + +“Harrison!” I gasped. “It’s Boy Jim!” + +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. + +“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.” + +“Let him alone, Harrison,” cried Jackson. “He’s big enough to take care +of himself.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +Boy Jim stepped across and laid his hand upon the prize-fighter’s +shoulder. + +“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.” + +Harrison shrugged his huge shoulders. + +“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.” + +“I trust, Harrison, that your opposition is withdrawn?” said my uncle. + +“Can I not take his place?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Whom am I to fight?” asked Jim, looking round at the company, who were +now all upon their feet. + +“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?” + +Jim looked at him with disgust in every line of his face. + +“Surely you are not going to set me to fight a drunken man!” said he. +“Where is Jem Belcher?” + +“My name, young man.” + +“I should be glad to try you, if I may.” + +“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.” + +“I’m much obliged to you.” + +“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. + +“Have you any choice where the fight takes place?” asked my uncle. + +“I am in your hands, sir,” said Jim. + +“Why not go round to the Five’s Court?” suggested Sir John Lade. + +“Yes, let us go to the Five’s Court.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“I’d stop it if I were you,” he whispered. + +“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. + +“Wait on ’im yourself, then, and chuck up the sponge when things begin to +go wrong. You know Joe Berks’s record?” + +“He’s since my time.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“What space do you give them?” asked my uncle. + +“Twenty-four, as they are both big ones, sir.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Here’s our man,” cried Belcher. “Come along, Berks, or we’ll go to +fetch you.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Three to one.” + +“Have you once in hundreds.” + +“Very good, Craven! There they go! Berks! Berks! Bravo! Berks! +Bravo! I think, Craven, that I shall trouble you for that hundred.” + +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. + +“Do you mind doubling our bet?” said Berkeley Craven, who was craning his +neck to get a glimpse of Jim. + +“Four to one on Berks! Four to one on Berks!” cried the ringsiders. + +“The odds have gone up, you see. Will you have four to one in hundreds?” + +“Very good, Sir John.” + +“You seem to fancy him more for having been knocked down.” + +“He was pushed down, but he stopped every blow, and I liked the look on +his face as he got up again.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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 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. + +“Where’s your country hawbuck now?” cried Craven, triumphantly. “Did +ever you witness anything more masterly?” + +“He’s no Johnny Raw, certainly,” said Sir John, shaking his head. “What +odds are you giving on Berks, Lord Sole?” + +“Two to one.” + +“I take you twice in hundreds.” + +“Here’s Sir John Lade hedging!” cried my uncle, smiling back at us over +his shoulder. + +“Time!” said Jackson, and the two men sprang forward to the mark again. + +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. + +“Bellows to mend!” cried Jem Belcher. “Where’s the four to one now?” + +“Give us time to get the lid off our pepper-box,” said Mendoza. “We mean +to make a night of it.” + +“Looks like it,” said Jack Harrison. “He’s shut one of his eyes already. +Even money that my boy wins it!” + +“How much?” asked several voices. + +“Two pound four and threepence,” cried Harrison, counting out all his +worldly wealth. + +“Time!” said Jackson once more. + +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!” + +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. + +“Get your left on his mark, boy,” they shouted, “then go to his head with +the right.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“In four rounds!” he kept repeating in a sort of an ecstasy. “Joe Berks +in four rounds! And it took Jem Belcher fourteen!” + +“Well, Roddy,” cried Jim, holding out his hand, “I told you that I would +come to London and make my name known.” + +“It was splendid, Jim!” + +“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.” + +“It is you who are changed, Jim,” said I; “I hardly knew you when you +came into the room.” + +“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.” + +“Miss Hinton has been my friend—the best friend I ever had.” + +“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!” + +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. + +“Very good, Belcher,” I heard my uncle say. + +“It would be a real pleasure to me to do it, sir,” and the famous +prize-fighter, as the two walked towards us. + +“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. + +“That is what I want, Sir Charles—to have a chance of fighting my way +upwards.” + +“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?” + +“I shall fight for the honour, and because I wish to be thought worthy of +being matched against Jem Belcher.” + +Belcher laughed good-humouredly. + +“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.” + +“I did not wish to fight him,” said Jim, flushing. + +“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—” + +“Charge of me!” + +“Yes,” said my uncle. “Belcher has consented to train you for the coming +battle if you are willing to enter.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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?” + +“With all my heart,” said Jim. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Good night, Roddy,” said Jim. “You’ll come down to Crawley and see me +at my training quarters, will you not?” + +And I heartily promised that I would. + +“You must be more careful, nephew,” said my uncle, as we rattled home in +his model _vis-à-vis_. “_En première jeunesse_ 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.” + +“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.” + +“Hum!” said my uncle, drily, and it was the last word that he addressed +to me that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +THE COFFEE-ROOM OF FLADONG’S. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“And I had rather wear it, father.” + +“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?” + +“He is riding in the Mall.” + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Here’s Cuddie Collingwood,” whispered my father. + +“Halloa, Lieutenant Stone!” cried the famous admiral very cheerily. “I +have scarce caught a glimpse of you since you came aboard the _Excellent_ +after St. Vincent. You had the luck to be at the Nile also, I +understand?” + +“I was third of the _Theseus_, under Millar, sir.” + +“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!” + +“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. + +“Yes, yes, Troubridge, I can understand and sympathize with your +feelings.” + +“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 _Culloden_ 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.” + +Collingwood shook the hand of the unfortunate captain. + +“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.” + +The melancholy cleared away from the massive face of the big seaman, and +his deep laughter filled the room. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“I had thought, sir, that it was inland,” said my father. + +Collingwood took a little black bag out of his pocket and shook it. + +“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?” + +“Bullets,” said Troubridge. + +“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?” + +My father shook his head. + +“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?” + +He replaced his bag in his pocket, and then, passing his arm through +Troubridge’s, they went through the door together. + +“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.” + +“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 _Hermione_ 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 _Rose_ 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?” + +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 _Goliath_, 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 _Speedy_, of fourteen small +guns with fifty-four men, he had carried by boarding the Spanish frigate +_Gamo_ with her crew of three hundred. It was easy to see that he was a +quick, irascible, high-blooded man, for he was talking hotly about his +grievances with a flush of anger upon his freckled cheeks. + +“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 _Chance_, and of the _Martin_, and of the +_Orestes_? They foundered at sea, and were never heard of more, and I +say that the crews of them were murdered men.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“Frenchy has his fore and maintop-gallant masts about equal,” said my +father. + +“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?” + +“Frenchy has white sails,” cried several. + +“And ours are black and rotten. That’s the difference. No wonder they +outsail us when the wind can blow through our canvas.” + +“In the _Speedy_,” 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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +But Lord Cochrane was on the other side in this question. + +“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 +_Speedies_ back, and as many volunteers as I care to take.” + +“That is very well, my lord,” said the old captain, with some warmth; +“when the Jacks hear that the _Speedy_ 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.” + +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. + +“What the cruiser gets the cruiser earns,” cried a frigate captain. + +“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?” + +“I do not claim higher ability, sir.” + +“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?” + +“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 _Alexander_ 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 _Minerva_ 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.” + +“I cannot see their grievance, Captain Ball,” said Cochrane. + +“When you are promoted to a two-decker, my lord, it will possibly become +clearer to you.” + +“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.” + +“Sir,” said the angry old sailor, “such an officer is at least in no +danger of being mistaken for a privateersman.” + +“I am surprised, Captain Bulkeley,” Cochran retorted hotly, “that you +should venture to couple the names of privateersman and King’s officer.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _L’Orient_ 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. + +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. + +“What is it? What has happened?” cried a score of voices. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +LORD NELSON. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Lieutenant Anson Stone?” she asked. + +“Yes, your ladyship,” answered my father. + +“Ah,” she cried, with an affected and exaggerated start, “you know me, +then?” + +“I have seen your ladyship at Naples.” + +“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. + +“I heard of your ladyship’s sad loss,” said my father. + +“We died together,” she cried. “What can my life be now save a +long-drawn living death?” + +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. + +“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?” + +“We heard the news last night.” + +“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?” + +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. + +“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.” + +“I had come to ask you, sir, if you could assist me to a ship.” + +“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.” + +“Who could doubt it who has heard of the _Agamemnon_?” 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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“To-night, my lord.” + +“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 _Victory_ on Wednesday, and we sail at once.” + +“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. + +“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, _our_ Queen, may be straining +her eyes for the topsails of Nelson’s ships.” + +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. + +“Well, young gentleman!” said he, sharply. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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 _Victory_. + +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. + +“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.” + +“I trust, my lord, that I shall be with you when next we meet them,” said +my father. + +“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!” + +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. + +“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?” + +“That it was a sign, sir, that it was a bad hour to cross your hawse.” + +“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 manœuvres! Go for them! The only +manœuvre 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?” + +“East-south-east,” my father answered, readily. + +“Then Cornwallis is, doubtless, keeping well up to Brest, though, for my +own part, I had rather tempt them out into the open sea.” + +“That is what every officer and man in the fleet would prefer, your +lordship,” said my father. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +The footman had suddenly precipitated himself into the room, but stood +abashed before the fierce glare of the admiral’s eye. + +“Your lordship told me to rush to you if it should come,” he explained, +holding out a large blue envelope. + +“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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +ON THE ROAD. + + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“That is all very well, Rodney,” said he, looking hard into my eyes. +“But what does your uncle think about it?” + +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. + +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. + +“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 _tour-de-force_ 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.” + +I had to assure him that the feat would be beyond me. + +“You are just a little _difficile_,” 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 _have_ 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.” + +“I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, sir,” said I. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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—_mais que voulez-vous_? 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?” + +“A person to see you, Sir Charles,” said the new valet. + +“You know that I never see any one until my dressing is complete.” + +“He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open the door.” + +“Pushed it open! What d’you mean, Lorimer? Why didn’t you put him out?” + +A smile passed over the servant’s face. At the same moment there came a +deep voice from the passage. + +“You show me in this instant, young man, d’ye ’ear? Let me see your +master, or it’ll be the worse for you.” + +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. + +“It’s Warr, the prizefighter, sir,” said I. + +“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.” + +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. + +“It’s important, Sir Charles, and between man and man,” said he. + +“You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the matter?” + +The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with his arms +resting upon the back of it. + +“I’ve got information, Sir Charles,” said he. + +“Well, what is it?” cried my uncle, impatiently. + +“Information of value.” + +“Out with it, then!” + +“Information that’s worth money,” said Warr, and pursed up his lips. + +“I see. You want to be paid for what you know?” + +The prizefighter smiled an affirmative. + +“Well, I don’t buy things on trust. You should know me better than to +try on such a game with me.” + +“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.” + +“You can do what you like,” said my uncle. “If your news is of service +to me, I shall know how to treat you.” + +“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.” + +“What of that?” + +“Did you ’appen to know what the bettin’ was yesterday?” + +“It was three to two on Wilson.” + +“Right you are, gov’nor. Three to two was offered in my own bar-parlour. +D’you know what the bettin’ is to-day?” + +“I have not been out yet.” + +“Then I’ll tell you. It’s seven to one against your man.” + +“What?” + +“Seven to one, gov’nor, no less.” + +“You’re talking nonsense, Warr! How could the betting change from three +to two to seven to one?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“All the worse for the fools who give the odds,” said he. “My man is all +right. You saw him yesterday, nephew?” + +“He was all right yesterday, sir.” + +“If anything had gone wrong I should have heard.” + +“But perhaps,” said Warr, “it ’as not gone wrong with ’im _yet_.” + +“What d’you mean?” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Mr. Jackson ’as asked me to be one o’ the beaters-out, sir.” + +“Very good. I hope that we shall have a fair and good fight. Good day +to you, and thank you.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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?” + +The prizefighter was hastening towards us as fast as his bulk would +allow. + +“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.” + +“Very good, Warr,” said my uncle, with his foot upon the step. + +“And the odds ’ave risen to ten to one.” + +“Let go her head, William!” + +“Just one more word, gov’nor. You’ll excuse the liberty, but if I was +you I’d take my pistols with me.” + +“Thank you; I have them.” + +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. + +“I have a good deal at stake, nephew,” said he. + +“So have I, sir,” I answered. + +“You!” he cried, in surprise. + +“My friend, sir.” + +“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.” + +“I fear that it will.” + +“In that case we may be too late.” + +“Pray God not, sir!” + +“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. + +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. + +“You know Berks, the bruiser?” asked my uncle. + +“Yes, Sir Charles.” + +“Has he passed?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Jim and Belcher would surely be a match for the four of them,” I +suggested. + +“If Belcher were with him I should have no fear. But you cannot tell +what _diablerie_ 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.” + +“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.” + +“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. +_C’est dommage_, 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.” + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +FOUL PLAY. + + +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. + +“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.” + +“How is he?” asked my uncle, quickly. + +“Never better, sir. Looks a picture, he does—and fit to fight for a +kingdom.” + +My uncle gave a sigh of relief. + +“Where is he?” he asked. + +“He’s gone to his room early, sir, seein’ that he had some very +partic’lar business to-morrow mornin’,” said the landlord, grinning. + +“Where is Belcher?” + +“Here he is, in the bar parlour.” + +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. + +There was a shout of jovial greeting when my uncle’s face was seen in the +doorway. + +“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. + +“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!” + +The Champion came out with us into the passage. + +“Where is your man, Belcher?” + +“He has gone to his room, sir. I believe that he should have a clear +twelve hours’ sleep before fighting.” + +“What sort of day has he had?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +Belcher whistled between his teeth. + +“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.” + +“Four villains, with Berks at their head, got the start of us by several +hours. It was Warr who told me.” + +“What Bill Warr says is straight, and what Joe Berks does is crooked. +Who were the others, sir?” + +“Red Ike, Fighting Yussef, and Chris McCarthy.” + +“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.” + +“It is a pity to wake him.” + +“He can hardly be asleep with all this racket in the house. This way, +sir, and down the passage!” + +We passed along the low-roofed, devious corridors of the old-fashioned +inn to the back of the house. + +“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?” + +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. + +“It seems that we are too late,” said he. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“A woman!” I cried. + +“By Heaven, you’re right, nephew,” said my uncle. + +Belcher gave a hearty curse. + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +The bright yellow glare from a stable lantern cut a ring suddenly from +the darkness, and an ostler came lounging out of the yard. + +“Who’s that?” cried the landlord. + +“It’s me, master! Bill Shields.” + +“How long have you been there, Bill?” + +“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—” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +I cast a quick glance at my uncle, and I saw that the shadow had deepened +upon his face. + +“What became of him?” he asked. + +“’E slouched away, sir, an’ I saw the last of ’im.” + +“You’ve seen no one else? You didn’t, for example, see a woman and a man +pass down the lane together?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Or hear anything unusual?” + +“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—” + +“What was it, then?” cried my uncle, impatiently. + +“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.” + +“Where did it come from?” + +“From the side road, yonder.” + +“Was it distant?” + +“No, sir; I should say it didn’t come from more’n two hundred yards.” + +“A single cry?” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +CRAWLEY DOWNS. + + +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. + +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. + +“Let me see! The fight was to be at ten, was it not?” he asked. + +“It was to be.” + +“I dare say it will be, too. Never say die, Tregellis! Your man has +still three hours in which to come back.” + +My uncle shook his head. + +“The villains have done their work too well for that, I fear,” said he. + +“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?” + +My uncle looked at me. + +“No,” said I. “I know of none.” + +“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.” + +“I see no better explanation,” said my uncle. + +“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.” + +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. + +“I dare say you are right, Craven,” said he. + +“I am sure that I am.” + +“But it won’t help us to win the fight.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I shall certainly do so. And I shall protest against paying the wagers +under such circumstances.” + +Craven shrugged his shoulders. + +“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.” + +We had sunk into a melancholy silence, when suddenly Belcher sprang up +from the table. + +“Hark!” he cried. “Listen to that!” + +“What is it?” we cried, all three. + +“The betting! Listen again!” + +Out of the babel of voices and roaring of wheels outside the window a +single sentence struck sharply on our ears. + +“Even money upon Sir Charles’s nominee!” + +“Even money!” cried my uncle. “It was seven to one against me, +yesterday. What is the meaning of this?” + +“Even money either way,” cried the voice again. + +“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.” + +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. + +“What’s the betting, boys?” asked Belcher, from the steps. + +“Even money, Jim,” cried several voices. + +“It was long odds on Wilson when last I heard.” + +“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.” + +“Who started it?” + +“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.” + +Belcher stooped down and turned over the man’s inert head so as to show +his features. + +“He’s a stranger to me, sir.” + +“And to me,” added my uncle. + +“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.” + +“Well, what the devil can _he_ know about it?” said Craven. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 +_effleuré_, 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“I am waiting here to give the office, Sir Charles,” said he. “It’s down +the Grinstead road, half a mile to the left.” + +“Very good,” said my uncle, reining his mares round into the cross-road. + +“You haven’t got your man there,” remarked Mendoza, with something of +suspicion in his manner. + +“What the devil is that to you?” cried Belcher, furiously. + +“It’s a good deal to all of us, for there are some funny stories about.” + +“You keep them to yourself, then, or you may wish you had never heard +them.” + +“All right, Jem! Your breakfast don’t seem to have agreed with you this +morning.” + +“Have the others arrived?” asked my uncle, carelessly. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“You take it like a man, Tregellis,” said Craven. “We must keep a bold +face and brazen it out until the last moment.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“It’s they. They are in time,” said my uncle and Craven together. + +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. + +“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.” + +My uncle bowed coldly, and made no answer. + +“I suppose that since we are all here we may begin at once,” said Sir +Lothian, taking no notice of the other’s manner. + +“We begin at ten o’clock. Not an instant before.” + +“Very good, if you prefer it. By the way, Sir Charles, where is your +man?” + +“I would ask _you_ that question, Sir Lothian,” answered my uncle. +“Where is my man?” + +A look of astonishment passed over Sir Lothian’s features, which, if it +were not real, was most admirably affected. + +“What do you mean by asking me such a question?” + +“Because I wish to know.” + +“But how can I tell, and what business is it of mine?” + +“I have reason to believe that you have made it your business.” + +“If you would kindly put the matter a little more clearly there would be +some possibility of my understanding you.” + +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. + +“Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a grievance against me, you will +oblige me vastly by putting it into words.” + +“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.” + +An ugly sneer came over Sir Lothian’s saturnine face. + +“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.” + +“Sir,” answered my uncle, “you are a liar, but how great a liar you are +nobody knows save yourself.” + +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. + +“It does not become our position to quarrel like two yokels at a fair,” +said he; “we shall go further into the matter afterwards.” + +“I promise you that we shall,” answered my uncle, grimly. + +“Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of your wager. Unless you produce +your nominee within five-and-twenty minutes, I claim the match.” + +“Eight-and-twenty minutes,” said my uncle, looking at his watch. “You +may claim it then, but not an instant before.” + +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. + +“I have been asked to be sole referee in this matter,” said he. “Does +that meet with your wishes, Sir Charles?” + +“I should be vastly obliged to you, Craven, if you will undertake the +duties.” + +“And Jackson has been suggested as timekeeper.” + +“I could not wish a better one.” + +“Very good. That is settled.” + +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. + +“The betting keeps up for all that,” said Belcher. “I’ve just been to +the ring-side, and it is still even.” + +“There’s a place for you at the outer ropes, Sir Charles,” said Craven. + +“There is no sign of my man yet. I won’t come in until he arrives.” + +“It is my duty to tell you that only ten minutes are left.” + +“I make it five,” cried Sir Lothian Hume. + +“That is a question which lies with the referee,” said Craven, firmly. +“My watch makes it ten minutes, and ten it must be.” + +“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. + +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. + +Sir Lothian Hume had been looking impatiently at his watch, and now he +shut it with a triumphant snap. + +“Time’s up!” he cried. “The match is forfeit.” + +“Time is not up,” said Craven. + +“I have still five minutes.” My uncle looked round with despairing eyes. + +“Only three, Tregellis!” + +A deep angry murmur was rising from the crowd. + +“It’s a cross! It’s a cross! It’s a fake!” was the cry. + +“Two minutes, Tregellis!” + +“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. + +“One more minute, Tregellis! I am very sorry, but it will be my duty to +declare it forfeit against you.” + +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. + +“Saved, by the Lord!” screamed Belcher. + +“I rather fancy,” said my uncle, calmly, “that this must be my man.” + +“Too late!” cried Sir Lothian. + +“No,” answered the referee. “It was still twenty seconds to the hour. +The fight will now proceed.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +THE RING-SIDE. + + +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. + +“There is no hurry now, I presume, Craven,” said my uncle, as coolly as +if this sudden effect had been carefully devised by him. + +“Now that your man has his hat in the ring you can take as much time as +you like, Sir Charles.” + +“Your friend has certainly cut it rather fine, nephew.” + +“It is not Jim, sir,” I whispered. “It is some one else.” + +My uncle’s eyebrows betrayed his astonishment. + +“Some one else!” he ejaculated. + +“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!” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“Well, sir, you heard I was coming,” said the smith. + +“Indeed, I did not.” + +“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.” + +“We saw him dead drunk at the George.” + +“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.” + +“That’s how the betting got turned,” said my uncle. “He found others to +follow his lead, it appears.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“She’s not a patron of sport, and that’s a fact,” said the smith. + +“Sport!” she cried, with shrill contempt and anger. “Tell me when all is +over.” + +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. + +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. + +In the mean time Sir Lothian Hume had come bustling up to the Honourable +Berkeley Craven, who was still standing near our curricle. + +“I beg to lodge a formal protest against these proceedings,” said he. + +“On what grounds, sir?” + +“Because the man produced is not the original nominee of Sir Charles +Tregellis.” + +“I never named one, as you are well aware,” said my uncle. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Forty-one next month, master.” + +“Very good. I direct that the fight proceed.” + +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 _Custos rotulorum_ 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. + +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. + +“I presume that you have a warrant, sir?” said Craven. + +“Yes, sir, I have a warrant.” + +“Then I have a legal right to inspect it.” + +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. + +“This seems to be correct, sir,” said he. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“What do you think of your chances, Harrison?” I heard my uncle ask, as +the two mares picked their way over the broken ground. + +“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.” + +“But your training?” + +“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.” + +“He’s rather long in the reach for you.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“He _was_ acting under force, Sir Charles.” + +“You have seen him, then?” + +“No, master, I have not seen him.” + +“You know where he is?” + +“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.” + +The ominous figure galloped up once more alongside of our curricle, but +this time his mission was a more amiable one. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“He was, you mean.” + +“Well, I don’t see no such difference as all that comes to, and I’m +putting ten guineas on my opinion.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Tut,” answered the west-countryman. “It’s only in Bristol and +Gloucester that you can get men to beat Bristol and Gloucester.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“I hope I see you well, Wilson,” said he. + +“Pretty tidy, I thank you,” answered the other. “We’ll speak to each +other in a different vashion, I ’spects, afore we part.” + +“But no ill-feeling,” said the smith, and the two fighting men grinned at +each other as they took their own corners. + +“May I ask, Mr. Referee, whether these two men have been weighed?” asked +Sir Lothian Hume, standing up in the outer ring. + +“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.” + +“He’s a fifteen-stoner from the loins upwards,” cried Dutch Sam, from his +corner. + +“We’ll get some of it off him before we finish.” + +“You’ll get more off him than ever you bargained for,” answered Jim +Belcher, and the crowd laughed at the rough chaff. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +THE SMITH’S LAST BATTLE. + + +“CLEAR the outer ring!” cried Jackson, standing up beside the ropes with +a big silver watch in his hand. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“All ready!” from both corners. + +“Time!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“First knock-down for Harrison!” roared a thousand voices, for ten times +as many pounds would change hands upon the point. + +“I appeal to the referee!” cried Sir Lothian Hume. “It was a slip, and +not a knock-down.” + +“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. + +“Have a care, Jack!” whispered the anxious second. “You got rather more +than you gave.” + +“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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“We’ve got him! He’s beat! He’s beat!” shouted the two Jew seconds. +“It’s a hundred to a tizzy on Gloucester!” + +“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. + +“How is it with you, Harrison?” asked my uncle. + +“Hearty as a buck, sir. It’s as right as the day.” + +The cheery answer came with so merry a ring that the clouds cleared from +my uncle’s face. + +“You should recommend your man to lead more, Tregellis,” said Sir John +Lade. “He’ll never win it unless he leads.” + +“He knows more about the game than you or I do, Lade. I’ll let him take +his own way.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“This won’t do, Tregellis,” said General Fitzpatrick. “My money is on +the old one, but the other is the finer boxer.” + +“My man is _un peu passé_, but he will come through all right,” answered +my uncle. + +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. + +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 _coup-de-grâce_. 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. + +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. + +“What think you now?” shouted all the neighbours of the west-countryman, +repeating his own refrain. + +“Why, Dutch Sam never put in a better rally,” cried Sir John Lade. +“What’s the betting now, Sir Lothian?” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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 manœuvre 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. + +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. + +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. + +“He’s got the roly-polies,” cried Belcher. “You have it your own way +now!” + +“I’ll vight for a week yet,” gasped Wilson. + +“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!” + +“Take him away! Take him away!” echoed a hundred voices. + +“I won’t be taken away! Who dares say so?” cried Wilson, who was back, +after another fall, upon his second’s knee. + +“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.” + +“You think he can’t win it?” + +“He is hopelessly beat, sir.” + +“You don’t know him. He’s a glutton of the first water.” + +“A gamer man never pulled his shirt off; but the other is too strong for +him.” + +“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. + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + +“The ring’s broken!” shouted Sir Lothian Hume. “I appeal to the referee! +The fight is null and void.” + +“You villain!” cried my uncle, hotly; “this is your doing.” + +“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. + +“We will settle our accounts, never fear, though I degrade myself in +meeting such a blackleg. What is it, Craven?” + +“We shall have to declare a draw, Tregellis.” + +“My man has the fight in hand.” + +“I cannot help it. I cannot attend to my duties when every moment I am +cut over with a whip or a stick.” + +Jackson suddenly made a wild dash into the crowd, but returned with empty +hands and a rueful face. + +“They’ve stolen my timekeeper’s watch,” he cried. “A little cove +snatched it out of my hand.” + +My uncle clapped his hand to his fob. + +“Mine has gone also!” he cried. + +“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. + +“Do you consent to a draw, Sir Lothian Hume?” + +“I do.” + +“And you, Sir Charles?” + +“Certainly not.” + +“The ring is gone.” + +“That is no fault of mine.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“I hope I have not hurt you much.” + +“I’m hard put to it to stand. How are you?” + +“My head’s singin’ like a kettle. It was the rain that helped me.” + +“Yes, I thought I had you beat one time. I never wish a better battle.” + +“Nor me either. Good-bye.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +CLIFFE ROYAL. + + +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. + +“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.” + +“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!” + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“What make you of this, nephew?” he asked, handing it to me. + +This was what I read— + + “SIR CHARLES TREGELLIS, + + “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 + + “JAMES HARRISON.” + +“Well, nephew?” asked my uncle. + +“Why, sir, I cannot tell what it may mean.” + +“Who gave it to you, sirrah?” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +My uncle put the note into his pocket. + +“I don’t move until I have seen you safely in the hands of the surgeon, +Harrison.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“You remember me, Sir Charles Tregellis,” said she, coming forward, as we +sprang down from the curricle. + +My uncle looked hard at her with a puzzled face. + +“I do not think that I have the privilege, madame. And yet—” + +“Polly Hinton, of the Haymarket. You surely cannot have forgotten Polly +Hinton.” + +“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—” + +“I was privately married, and I retired from the stage. I want you to +forgive me for taking Jim away from you last night.” + +“It was you, then?” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“Your uncle would have won it, but the roughs broke the ring.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Now, sirrah, your explanation!” cried Sir Lothian, standing with his +arms folded by the door. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Why did he not leave a message with Belcher?” + +“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.” + +“Perhaps Sir Lothian Hume could tell you,” said my uncle. + +Our enemy said nothing; but his little grey eyes slid round with a most +murderous glance in our direction. + +“After I had come here and seen my father I went down—” + +My uncle stopped him with a cry of astonishment. + +“What did you say, young man? You came here and you saw your father—here +at Cliffe Royal?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +My uncle had turned very pale. + +“In God’s name, then, tell us who your father is!” + +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. + +There was an instant of silence, broken by a deep oath from Sir Lothian +Hume— + +“Lord Avon, by God!” he cried. + +“Very much at your service, gentlemen,” answered the strange figure in +the dressing-gown. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +LORD AVON. + + +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. + +“Ned!” he cried. + +But the strange man who stood before him folded his arms over his breast. + +“No Charles,” said he. + +My uncle stopped and looked at him in amazement. + +“Surely, Ned, you have a greeting for me after all these years?” + +“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.” + +“No, no, Ned.” + +“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.” + +“Then he is really your son!” cried my uncle, staring at Jim in +amazement. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“He is my lawful son.” + +“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.” + +“I have already explained, Sir Lothian, why I kept my marriage secret.” + +“You have explained, sir; but it is for others in another place to say if +that explanation is satisfactory.” + +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. + +“You dare to doubt my word?” + +“I demand a proof.” + +“My word is proof to those who know me.” + +“Excuse me, Lord Avon; but I know you, and I see no reason why I should +accept your statement.” + +It was a brutal speech, and brutally delivered. Lord Avon staggered +forward, and it was only his son on one side 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. + +“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. + +“He has gone to denounce me,” said Lord Avon, a spasm of wounded pride +distorting his features. + +“Shall I bring him back?” cried Boy Jim. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“What do you mean when you talk about the evidence of your own eyes?” +asked Lord Avon, looking hard at my uncle. + +“I saw you, Ned, upon that accursed night.” + +“Saw me? Where?” + +“In the passage.” + +“And doing what?” + +“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.” + +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 hope 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. + +“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.” + +“I thank God that I hear you say so.” + +“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.” + +“Your word is enough for me, Ned; but the world will wish this other +question answered also.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“It has been pricked with a pin.” + +“Precisely. What is the card?” + +My uncle turned it over. + +“It is the king of clubs.” + +“Try the bottom corner of this one.” + +“It is quite smooth.” + +“And the card is?” + +“The three of spades.” + +“And this one?” + +“It has been pricked. It is the ace of hearts.” Lord Avon hurled them +down upon the floor. + +“There you have the whole accursed story!” he cried. “Need I go further +where every word is an agony?” + +“I see something, but not all. You must continue, Ned.” + +The frail figure stiffened itself, as though he were visibly bracing +himself for an effort. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +My uncle drew a long sigh of relief. + +“Nothing could be clearer!” he murmured. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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—” + +“It was I, father,” cried Boy Jim; “I and my friend, Rodney Stone.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“That I dare swear,” said my uncle, heartily. + +“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.” + +“My dear friend, I would not for the world—” + +“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.” + +There was silence for some time, and then it was my uncle’s voice which +broke it. + +“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.” + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +THE VALET’S STORY. + + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“Ambrose, you are a black villain,” said my uncle. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +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. + +“They will arrest me!” he cried. “I must submit to the degradation of an +arrest.” + +“This way, Sir James; this way,” said the harsh tones of Sir Lothian Hume +from without. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“I am ready to answer the charge.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +The squire’s weather-stained face flushed to a deeper red as he turned +upon the Londoner. + +“Are you the magistrate of a county, sir?” + +“I have not the honour, Sir James.” + +“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.” + +“You take too high a tone in this matter, Sir James. I am not accustomed +to be taken to task so sharply.” + +“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.” + +Sir Lothian bowed. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Yours is a true heart, James.” + +“Tut, tut! it is the due process of the law. I trust, Sir Lothian Hume, +that you find nothing to object to in it?” + +Sir Lothian shrugged his shoulders, and looked blackly at the magistrate. +Then he turned to my uncle. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Beg your pardon, Sir Charles,” said he; “but it shocks me very much to +see your cravat.” + +“You are right, Ambrose,” my uncle answered. “Lorimer does his best, but +I have never been able to fill your place.” + +“I should be proud to serve you, sir; but you must acknowledge that Lord +Avon has the prior claim. If he will release me—” + +“You may go, Ambrose; you may go!” cried Lord Avon. “You are an +excellent servant, but your presence has become painful to me.” + +“Thank you, Ned,” said my uncle. “But you must not leave me so suddenly +again, Ambrose.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +THE END. + + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _accablé_, 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!” + +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. + +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. + +“Happy to serve you in any way, Sir Charles,” said he. “We’ve arranged +it for to-morrow at seven on Ditching Common.” + +“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.” + +“They are stopping across the road at the Friar’s Oak inn, and if you +would wish it later—” + +“No, no; I shall make the effort. Ambrose, you will bring up the +_batteris de toilette_ at five.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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 _Ca Ira_, 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. + +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 _Cato_, 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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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 _distingué_, 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.” + +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. + +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. + +Ten minutes may have passed, and then I heard the clatter of many steps, +and a knot of men came clustering through the door. + +“You need not employ violence,” said a harsh, clear voice. “On whose +suit is it?” + +“Several suits, sir. They ’eld over in the ’opes that you’d pull off the +fight this mornin’. Total amounts is twelve thousand pound.” + +“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.” + +“Couldn’t do it, sir, really. It’s more than our places as sheriff’s +officers is worth.” + +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. + +“I can’t mount the carriage unless you free my hands,” said he. + +“’Old ’ard, Bill, for ’e looks vicious. Let go o’ one arm at a time! +Ah, would you then?” + +“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. + +“He’s napped it this time! Get ’im by the wrists, Jim! Now, all +together!” + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + + THE END. + + * * * * * + + PRINTED BY GARDEN CITY PRESS, LETCHWORTH, ENGLAND. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODNEY STONE*** + + +******* This file should be named 5148-0.txt or 5148-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/4/5148 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Rodney Stone + + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + + + +Release Date: July 27, 2014 [eBook #5148] +[This file was first posted on May 14, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODNEY STONE*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1921 Eveleigh Nash & Grayson edition +by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>RODNEY STONE</h1> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">By<br /> +A. CONAN DOYLE</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">London<br /> +EVELEIGH NASH & GRAYSON LTD.<br /> +148, Strand<br /> +1921</p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Amongst</span> 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.”</p> +<p>I am also much indebted to my friends Mr. J. C. Parkinson and +Robert Barr for information upon the subject of the ring.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">A. CONAN DOYLE.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Haslemere</span>,<br /> + <i>September</i> 1, 1896.</p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">CHAPTER</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Friar’s Oak</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Walker of Cliffe Royal</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Play-actress of Anstey +Cross</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Peace of Amiens</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Buck Tregellis</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">On the Threshold</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page86">86</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Hope of England</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Brighton Road</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Watier’s</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">X.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Men of the Ring</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page153">153</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Fight in the +Coach-house</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page179">179</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Coffee-room of +Fladong’s</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page201">201</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Nelson</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page221">221</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">On the Road</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page234">234</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Foul Play</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page253">253</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Crawley Downs</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page261">261</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Ring-side</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page277">277</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Smith’s Last +Battle</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page294">294</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Cliffe Royal</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page314">314</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Avon</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page326">326</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Valet’s Story</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page340">340</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The End</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page355">355</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>CHAPTER +I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">FRIAR’S OAK.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” cried the driver, pulling up +his team.</p> +<p>“I bid you have a care, master, or there will be some +one-eyed folk along the road you drive.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I’ll pay you for your advice, my man,” said +he.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Have a care, master,” said he. +“You’ll get pepper if you don’t.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“By Gad!” he cried, “it’s Jack +Harrison!”</p> +<p>“My name, master!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>How they roared on the coach.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>But the driver had already climbed back into his perch, +laughing as loudly as any of his companions.</p> +<p>“We’ll let you off this time, Harrison,” +said he. “Are those your sons down there?”</p> +<p>“This is my nephew, master.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<h2><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE WALKER OF CLIFFE ROYAL.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>And it was not long before he made good his promise.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>It was this pride of Boy Jim’s which led to an adventure +which makes me shiver now when I think of it.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Roddy,” said he, “have you heard that +Cliffe Royal is haunted?”</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>“Do you know the story of it, Roddy?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Tell me the story, Roddy.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“And Lord Avon did it?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Did they hang him, then?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And the ghost walks?”</p> +<p>“There are many who have seen it.”</p> +<p>“Why is the house still empty?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Jim lay silent for a bit, plucking at the short grass with his +fingers.</p> +<p>“Roddy,” said he at last, “will you come +with me to-night and look for the ghost?”</p> +<p>It turned me cold, the very thought of it.</p> +<p>“My mother would not let me.”</p> +<p>“Slip out when she’s abed. I’ll wait +for you at the smithy.”</p> +<p>“Cliffe Royal is locked.”</p> +<p>“I’ll open a window easy enough.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid, Jim.”</p> +<p>“But you are not afraid if you are with me, Roddy. +I’ll promise you that no ghost shall hurt you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“We’re in luck, Roddy,” whispered Jim. +“Here’s one of the windows open.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough, +Jim?” said I, with my teeth chattering.</p> +<p>“I’ll lift you in first.”</p> +<p>“No, no, I’ll not go first.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What an old drum of a place it is!” he cried; +“we’ll strike a light, Roddy, and see where we +are.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“This is where they played the cards, Jim,” said +I, in a hushed voice. “It was on that very +table.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“I wonder whence that stair leads?” said Jim.</p> +<p>“Don’t go up there, Jim!” I cried, clutching +at his arm. “That must lead to the room of the +murder.”</p> +<p>“How do you know that?”</p> +<p>“The vicar said that they saw on the ceiling—Oh, +Jim, you can see it even now!”</p> +<p>He held up his candle, and there was a great, dark smudge upon +the white plaster above us.</p> +<p>“I believe you’re right,” said he; +“but anyhow I’m going to have a look at +it.”</p> +<p>“Don’t, Jim, don’t!” I cried.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Can you stand, Roddy?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but I’m shaking.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Could it have been a man, Jim?” I asked, plucking +up my courage now that I could hear the dogs barking on the +farms.</p> +<p>“It was a spirit, Rodney.”</p> +<p>“How do you know?”</p> +<p>“Because I followed it and saw it vanish into a wall, as +easily as an eel into sand. Why, Roddy, what’s amiss +now?”</p> +<p>My fears were all back upon me, and every nerve creeping with +horror.</p> +<p>“Take me away, Jim! Take me away!” I +cried.</p> +<p>I was glaring down the avenue, and his eyes followed +mine. Amid the gloom of the oak trees something was coming +towards us.</p> +<p>“Quiet, Roddy!” whispered Jim. “By +heavens, come what may, my arms are going round it this +time.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Jim sprang upon it like a tiger.</p> +<p>“<i>You’re</i> not a spirit, anyway!” he +cried.</p> +<p>The man gave a shout of surprise, and then a growl of +rage.</p> +<p>“What the deuce!” he roared, and then, +“I’ll break your neck if you don’t let +go.”</p> +<p>The threat might not have loosened Jim’s grip, but the +voice did.</p> +<p>“Why, uncle!” he cried.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“We’re exploring,” said Jim.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I’m not afraid, uncle. I never was afraid; +but spirits are new to me, and—”</p> +<p>“Spirits?”</p> +<p>“I’ve been in Cliffe Royal, and we’ve seen +the ghost.”</p> +<p>The Champion gave a whistle.</p> +<p>“That’s the game, is it?” said he. +“Did you have speech with it?”</p> +<p>“It vanished first.”</p> +<p>The Champion whistled once more.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What took <i>you</i> up to Cliffe Royal, +uncle?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PLAY-ACTRESS OF ANSTEY +CROSS.</span></h2> +<p>I <span class="smcap">have</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“We are the people of England!” cried young Master +Ovington, the son of the Tory Squire.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>We thought him very wicked then, but, looking back, I am not +sure that we were not very wicked ourselves.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Do you fight, Dan?” asked Tom.</p> +<p>“Yes, Tom; thou must fight for it.”</p> +<p>On which Tom drew his pistol, and blew Dan’s brains +out.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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—</p> +<p class="poetry">“Alas! Swift 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.”</p> +<p>There was more of it, and I dare say it is all still to be +read in Patcham Churchyard.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Good gracious!” she cried. “What a +vulgar-looking woman!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What a dreadful sight!” cried my mother.</p> +<p>“What is amiss with her, mother?”</p> +<p>“Heaven forgive me if I misjudge her, Rodney, but I +think that the unfortunate woman has been drinking.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Is that he?” I heard her ask.</p> +<p>Champion Harrison nodded.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I hope—I hope you’re well,” she +stammered.</p> +<p>“Very well, ma’am,” said Jim, staring from +her to his uncle.</p> +<p>“And happy too?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ma’am, I thank you.”</p> +<p>“Nothing that you crave for?”</p> +<p>“Why, no, ma’am, I have all that I +lack.”</p> +<p>“That will do, Jim,” said his uncle, in a stern +voice. “Blow up the forge again, for that shoe wants +reheating.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“To-morrow, then?” she cried out loud.</p> +<p>“To-morrow,” he answered.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want her help, uncle, and I don’t +want to see her.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What would she want to talk with such as me +about?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well, uncle, I’ll go if Roddy Stone will go with +me,” said Jim.</p> +<p>“Of course he’ll go. Won’t you, Master +Rodney?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Miss Hinton cannot see you,” said she.</p> +<p>“But she asked us to come,” said Jim.</p> +<p>“I can’t help that,” cried the woman, in a +rude voice. “I tell you that she can’t see +you.”</p> +<p>We stood irresolute for a minute.</p> +<p>“Maybe you would just tell her I am here,” said +Jim, at last.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You’ll not tell any one, Roddy,” said +he.</p> +<p>“Not unless it’s my mother.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“She was so yesterday, Jim.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“My uncle has had a letter,” said he. +“She would speak with me, and I would be easier if you came +with me, Rod.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Boy Jim, ma’am,” said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Come now, little man,” said she to me, when the +table had been cleared. “Why are you looking round so +much?”</p> +<p>“Because there are so many pretty things upon the +walls.”</p> +<p>“And which do you think the prettiest of +them?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>“It’s a play-actress,” said I.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I have never been inside a play-house,” said he; +“I know nothing of them.”</p> +<p>“Nor I either.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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>.”</p> +<p>“And who wrote it, ma’am?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And you play no longer, ma’am?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It was but the thought of that poor woman and her +child.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>She vanished into her cupboard, and came out with a bottle and +glass, which she placed upon the table.</p> +<p>“You are too young for strong waters,” she said, +“but this talking gives one a dryness, +and—”</p> +<p>Then it was that Boy Jim did a wonderful thing. He rose +from his chair, and he laid his hand upon the bottle.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” said he.</p> +<p>She looked him in the face, and I can still see those black +eyes of hers softening before the gaze.</p> +<p>“Am I to have none?”</p> +<p>“Please, don’t.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“There, Jim!” said she; “does that satisfy +you? It’s long since any one cared whether I drank or +no.”</p> +<p>“You are too good and kind for that,” said he.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What’s that, miss?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PEACE OF AMIENS.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Here’s Rod,” said my mother at last, +struggling down on to the ground again. “Roddy, +darling, here’s your father!”</p> +<p>I saw the red face and the kindly, light-blue eyes looking out +at me.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>The blue arms flew out, and there were the skirt and the two +feet fixed in the door again.</p> +<p>“Here are the folk coming, Anson,” said my mother, +blushing. “Won’t you get out and come in with +us?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Oh, Anson, Anson!” she cried.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And leave me without a child as well as without a +husband!” cried my mother.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Yes, father,” said I, with some confidence.</p> +<p>“Then how many sail of the line were at the Battle of +Camperdown?”</p> +<p>He shook his head gravely when he found that I could not +answer him.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>Again I had to confess that he had beaten me.</p> +<p>“Well, your dad can teach you something in history +yet,” he cried, looking in triumph at my mother. +“Have you learned geography?”</p> +<p>“Yes, father,” said I, though with less confidence +than before.</p> +<p>“Well, how far is it from Port Mahon to +Algeciras?”</p> +<p>I could only shake my head.</p> +<p>“If Ushant lay three leagues upon your starboard +quarter, what would be your nearest English port?”</p> +<p>Again I had to give it up.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You never asked me about that, Mary,” said +he.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Two hundred and eighty pounds,” I answered.</p> +<p>“Why, Anson, it is a fortune!” cried my mother, +clapping her hands.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“A hundred pounds.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>I tried to explain that addition was the same upon sea or +land, but that history and geography were not.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Whom think you that it is from, Anson?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Ay, and what does he want?” asked he, in no very +amiable voice.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Thank God that you never had to stoop to it, +Mary. I want none of his help.”</p> +<p>“But we must think of Rodney.”</p> +<p>“Rodney has enough for his sea-chest and kit. He +needs no more.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Let us hear what he says, then,” said my father; +and this was the letter which she read to him—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">14, Jermyn Street, St. +James’s,<br /> +“April 15th, 1803.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Sister Mary</span>,</p> +<p>“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</i>, <i>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“I am ever, my dear sister +Mary,<br /> +“Your brother,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Charles Tregellis</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“What do you think of that?” cried my mother in +triumph when she had finished.</p> +<p>“I think it is the letter of a fop,” said my +father, bluntly.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +65</span>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BUCK TREGELLIS.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> 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.</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“The Army or the Navy is the place for you, Jim,” +said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“An officer gets his orders from those above +him.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I know that you are as proud as Lucifer,” said +I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Where is that, Jim?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>A smile flickered over the dark face of the servant, but his +features reset themselves instantly into their usual mask of +respectful observance.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The man went off noiselessly and swiftly, but was back in a +few minutes with a flat brown basket.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“How old are you, nephew?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Seventeen, sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Shall I convey it to your bedchamber, Sir +Charles?” he asked.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You number yourself in an illustrious company by dipping +your finger and thumb into it,” said he.</p> +<p>“Indeed, sir!” said my father, shortly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.’</p> +<p>“A bishop!” cried my father. “You draw +your line very high, sir.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” said my uncle; “I wish no better +epitaph upon my tombstone.”</p> +<p>My mother had in the meanwhile descended, and we all drew up +to the table.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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</i>.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“God bless him and keep him from ill!” cried my +father.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And the Prince?” asked my mother. “Is +he well-favoured?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I suppose,” said he, “that this is your +first visit to Friar’s Oak?”</p> +<p>My uncle’s face turned suddenly very grave and +stern.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Was it at the inn you stayed?” he asked.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My father nodded.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“How came he, then, to such a crime?” asked my +father.</p> +<p>My uncle shook his head.</p> +<p>“Many a time have I asked myself that question, and it +comes home to me more to-night than ever.”</p> +<p>All the jauntiness had gone out of his manner, and he had +turned suddenly into a sad and serious man.</p> +<p>“Was it certain that he did it, Charles?” asked my +mother.</p> +<p>My uncle shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Nay, I have heard nothing of it,” my father +answered.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Next morning I was awakened by finding him at my +bedside.</p> +<p>“‘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.’</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“‘Neither I nor my brother will touch it,’ +said he. ‘There it lies, and you may do what you like +about it.’</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My father was sitting with staring eyes, and his forgotten +pipe reeking in his hand.</p> +<p>“Pray let us hear the end of it, sir,” he +cried.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>My uncle had turned quite pale with the vividness of the +memory, and he passed his hand over his eyes.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“And what said Lord Avon?” cried my father.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“It still bears the stain,” said I.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“There is truth in that,” said be, +thoughtfully. “You saw no features, you +say?”</p> +<p>“It was too dark.”</p> +<p>“But only a figure?”</p> +<p>“The dark outline of one.”</p> +<p>“And it retreated up the stairs?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“And vanished into the wall?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“What part of the wall?” cried a voice from behind +us.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What the deuce is the meaning of this, sir?” +cried my uncle.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I never knew you forget yourself before,” said my +uncle.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<h2><a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +86</span>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ON THE THRESHOLD.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You won’t forget us, Roddy? You won’t +forget us?”</p> +<p>“Why, mother, what is it?”</p> +<p>“Your uncle, Roddy—he is going to take you away +from us.”</p> +<p>“When, mother?”</p> +<p>“To-morrow.”</p> +<p>God forgive me, how my heart bounded for joy, when hers, which +was within touch of it, was breaking with sorrow!</p> +<p>“Oh, mother!” I cried. “To +London?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I’ll not go if it is to grieve you,” I +cried.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I promise you, mother.”</p> +<p>“And you will be careful of wine, Roddy? You are +young and unused to it.”</p> +<p>“Yes, mother.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Well, nephew,” he cried, “what do you think +of the prospect of coming to town with me?”</p> +<p>“I thank you, sir, for the kind interest which you take +in me,” said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You’ll find him a chip of good wood, sir,” +said my father.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I fear, Charles, that Roddy’s wardrobe is +country-made,” said my mother.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“On how much, sir,” asked my father, “can a +young man dress in town?”</p> +<p>“With prudence and reasonable care, a young man of +fashion can dress upon eight hundred a year,” my uncle +answered.</p> +<p>I saw my poor father’s face grow longer.</p> +<p>“I fear, sir, that Roddy must keep his country +clothes,” said he. “Even with my +prize-money—”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>My parents tried to thank him, but he cut them short.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“God bless me, sir! Who’d ha’ thought +of seein’ you at Friar’s Oak? Why, Sir Charles, +it brings old memories back to look at your face +again.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Yes, the Bristol yellowman has been the winning colour +of late. How d’ye do, Mrs. Harrison? I +don’t suppose you remember me?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“Come, wifie,” said Harrison, patting her on the +shoulder. “I’ve been cut up in my time, but +never as bad as that.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You’ll keep your hat on your head like an honest, +God-fearing man, John,” said his wife, turning back into +the house.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s no use, sir,” said Harrison, +“but I’d be glad to hear about it all the +same.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Harrison shook his head. “Never heard of him, +sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Sparrin’ ain’t fightin’,” said +the smith.</p> +<p>“I am told that he had the best of it in a by-battle +with Noah James, of Cheshire.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“‘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.”</p> +<p>“It won’t do, Sir Charles,” said the smith, +shaking his head. “There’s nothing would please +me better, but you heard for yourself.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“That’s my nephew, Sir Charles.”</p> +<p>“Is he living with you?”</p> +<p>“His parents are dead.”</p> +<p>“Has he ever been in London?”</p> +<p>“No, Sir Charles. He’s been with me here +since he was as high as that hammer.”</p> +<p>My uncle turned to Boy Jim.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>Boy Jim’s dark eyes sparkled with pleasure.</p> +<p>“I should be glad to come, sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Tut, Harrison, let the lad come!” cried my +uncle.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Let go her head!” cried he to the ostler, and +with a snap, a crack, and a jingle, away we went upon our +journey.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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?</p> +<h2><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +98</span>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE HOPE OF ENGLAND.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>“You sing, don’t you, nephew?” he asked, +suddenly.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, a little.”</p> +<p>“A baritone, I should fancy?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I fear not, sir.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>It made me laugh, the easy way in which he asked the question, +as if it were a most natural thing to possess.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>My fears told me that it might be my own very great +discomfiture, but I did not say so.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>I confessed that I had not.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Ambrose,” he cried, “you may take +Fidelio.”</p> +<p>But there came no answer. The seat behind was +unoccupied. Ambrose was gone.</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Halloa, Charlie! Good drive down?” he +cried.</p> +<p>My uncle bowed and smiled to the lady.</p> +<p>“Broke it at Friar’s Oak,” said he. +“I’ve my light curricle and two new mares—half +thorough-bred, half Cleveland bay.”</p> +<p>“What d’you think of my team of blacks?” +asked the other.</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir Charles, what d’you think of them? +Ain’t they damnation smart?” cried the little +woman.</p> +<p>“Plenty of power. Good horses for the Sussex +clay. Too thick about the fetlocks for me. I like to +travel.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“By George, yes, Letty is right!” cried the +man. “D’you start to-morrow?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jack.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It was dreadful to hear her,” said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“The cook!” I exclaimed, in bewilderment.</p> +<p>“You look surprised, nephew.”</p> +<p>“I should have thought that some respectable banking +firm—”</p> +<p>My uncle inclined his lips to my ear.</p> +<p>“No respectable house would touch them,” he +whispered. “Ah, Mellish, is the Prince +within?”</p> +<p>“In the private saloon, Sir Charles,” said the +gentleman addressed.</p> +<p>“Any one with him?”</p> +<p>“Sheridan and Francis. He said he expected +you.”</p> +<p>“Then we shall go through.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t have intruded, your Royal Highness, +but I must have the money—or even a thousand on account +would do.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“That’s the very place for a furniture man,” +said the man with the red nose.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I think, sir, that the Commons would respond now if the +matter were fairly put before them by Charlie Fox or +myself,” said Sheridan.</p> +<p>The Prince burst out against the Commons with an energy of +hatred that one would scarce expect from that chubby, +good-humoured face.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>My uncle put his hand on my sleeve and led me forward.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“No, sir,” said my uncle. Sheridan and +Francis exchanged glances behind the Prince’s back.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir! Well, sir! And what then, +sir?” cried Francis, who appeared to be an irascible, +rough-tongued man.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I was in London at the time,” said Sheridan, +gravely.</p> +<p>“You can vouch for it, Francis!”</p> +<p>“I can vouch to having heard your Highness tell the +story.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You killed your man—?”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“But the duel, Tregellis!” cried the Prince.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Hang it, Charlie, you know that I sink or swim with my +friends! A Whig I started, and a Whig I shall +remain.”</p> +<p>I thought that I could read upon Fox’s dark face that he +was by no means so confident about the Prince’s +principles.</p> +<p>“Pitt has been at you, sir, I understand?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I can’t get any exercise for the gout,” +said Fox.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>Fox smiled and shook his head.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“We should be vastly honoured if you would come +<i>incog.</i> to our supper, sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Sir, we shall be proud to see the Earl of Chester +there,” said my uncle.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>My uncle shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BRIGHTON ROAD.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Is our tandem out?”</p> +<p>“It is at the door.”</p> +<p>“Come, then, and you shall have such a drive as you +never had before.”</p> +<p>He stood at the door pulling on his long brown +driving-gauntlets and giving his orders to the ostlers.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It’s a hundred that you don’t see us before +Westminster with a quarter of an hour’s start,” said +Sir John.</p> +<p>“I’ll take you another hundred that we pass +you,” answered my uncle.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“If he has sprung his cattle up all these hills +they’ll be spent ere they see Croydon,” said he.</p> +<p>“They have four to two,” said I.</p> +<p>“<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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Do you drive, nephew?”</p> +<p>“Very little, sir.”</p> +<p>“There is no driving on the Brighton Road.”</p> +<p>“How is that, sir?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Just gone, sir.”</p> +<p>“Going hard?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p><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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“There’s half the game won, nephew. Now we +must pass them. Hark forrard, my beauties! By George, +if Kitty isn’t foundered!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Where on earth have they got to?” cried my +uncle. “Can you make them out on the road, +nephew?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Dusty work!” said my uncle, quietly.</p> +<p>“Fan ’em, Jack! Fan ’em!” +shrieked the lady.</p> +<p>He sprang up and lashed at his horses.</p> +<p>“Look out, Tregellis!” he shouted. +“There’s a damnation spill coming for +somebody.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I lead!” shouted my uncle. “You must +pull them, Lade!”</p> +<p>“Not I!” he roared.</p> +<p>“No, by George!” shrieked her ladyship. +“Fan ’em, Jack; keep on fanning ’em!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Jam them, Jack!” she cried. “Jam +the—before they can pass.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It was the lady,” said I.</p> +<p>My uncle’s brow cleared, and he began to laugh.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<h2><a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +136</span>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">WATIER’S.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.”</p> +<p>We found a note from Ambrose waiting for us which increased +rather than explained the mystery of his disappearance.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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>.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Why, George,” cried my uncle, “I thought +you were with your regiment.”</p> +<p>“I’ve sent in my papers,” drawled the +other.</p> +<p>“I thought it would come to that.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“How was that?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My uncle laughed, and Brummell looked me up and down with his +large, intolerant eyes.</p> +<p>“These will do very passably,” said he. +“Buff and blue are always very gentlemanlike. But a +sprigged waistcoat would have been better.”</p> +<p>“I think not,” said my uncle, warmly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You must not let anything I have said shake your faith +in Sir Charles’s judgment, Mr. Stone,” said Brummell, +very earnestly.</p> +<p>I assured him that I should not.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“From Sussex, sir.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“You don’t hunt, George?”</p> +<p>“When I do, it’s a woman. But surely you +don’t go to hounds, Charles?”</p> +<p>“I was out with the Belvoir last winter.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“I have been out of town.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 Mall 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Why did he do that, sir?” I asked, in +astonishment.</p> +<p>My uncle shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“Evening, Tregellis!” An elderly, +vacant-looking man had stopped before us and was looking me up +and down.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“For a few days.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“There is Mr. Brummell, sir,” said I.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What did Lord Merton do?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I think not,” answered my uncle. “It +would be a mistake to overwhelm one by attentions which are a +pleasure to many.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Bailiffs?” asked one of his companions.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“The English are excellent at a flat-iron or a kitchen +poker, but anything more delicate is beyond them.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“The Prince took it up.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Lost like the deuce,” he snapped.</p> +<p>“Dice?”</p> +<p>“No, whist.”</p> +<p>“You couldn’t get very hard hit over +that.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My uncle was evidently struck by the haggard look upon the +other’s face.</p> +<p>“I hope it’s not very bad,” he said.</p> +<p>“Bad enough. It won’t bear talking +about. By the way, Tregellis, have you got your man for +this fight yet?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“If you will name your day I shall produce my man, Sir +Lothian,” said my uncle, coldly.</p> +<p>“This day four weeks, if you like.”</p> +<p>“Very good. The 18th of May.”</p> +<p>“I hope to have changed my name by then!”</p> +<p>“How is that?” asked my uncle, in surprise.</p> +<p>“It is just possible that I may be Lord Avon.”</p> +<p>“What, you have had some news?” cried my uncle, +and I noticed a tremor in his voice.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“I won’t have you use that word, Sir +Lothian,” cried my uncle, sharply.</p> +<p>“You were there as I was. You know that he was a +murderer.”</p> +<p>“I tell you that you shall not say so.”</p> +<p>Sir Lothian’s fierce little grey eyes had to lower +themselves before the imperious anger which shone in my +uncle’s.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“I shall bring Crab Wilson with me, and finally arrange +the conditions of our little wager.”</p> +<p>“Very good, Sir Lothian: I shall hope to see +you.” They bowed, and my uncle stood a little time +looking after him as he made his way amidst the crowd.</p> +<p>“A good sportsman, nephew,” said he. +“A bold rider, the best pistol-shot in England, but . . . a +dangerous man!”</p> +<h2><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +153</span>CHAPTER X.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE MEN OF THE RING.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Quite right, Bob! How are you all? How are +you, Maddox? How are you, Baldwin? Ah, Belcher, I am +very glad to see you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“How are you, Berks?”</p> +<p>“Pretty tidy. ’Ow are you?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“See now, Jem, none o’ that!” said Berks, +sulkily.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“What’s the news of Friar’s Oak?” I +asked eagerly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And Boy Jim?”</p> +<p>Champion Harrison’s good-humoured face clouded over.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Why, Jack Harrison!” he cried. “This +is a resurrection. Where in the world did you come +from?”</p> +<p>“Glad to see you, Jackson,” said my +companion. “You look as well and as young as +ever.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, yes. I resigned the belt when I could +get no one to fight me for it, and I took to teaching.”</p> +<p>“I’m doing smith’s work down Sussex +way.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>Harrison’s eyes glistened at the idea, but he shook his +head.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s Jem. You’ve not seen +him! He’s a jewel.”</p> +<p>“So I’ve heard. Who’s the youngster +beside him? He looks a tidy chap.”</p> +<p>“That’s a new man from the West. Crab +Wilson’s his name.”</p> +<p>Harrison looked at him with interest. “I’ve +heard of him,” said he. “They are getting a +match on for him, ain’t they?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Here’s the Prince,” said Jackson, as a hum +and bustle rose from the door.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You must keep yourself in hand to-night, Berks,” +said Jackson. “The Prince is here, +and—”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Where’s that, gov’nor?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“No ’arm, gov’nor,” grumbled +Berks. “I’m sure I’ve always ’ad +the name of bein’ a very genelman-like man.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“D’you draw their cork in return?” asked +Harrison.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“But if they don’t?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Youth will be served,” said a crooning voice from +the other side of the table. “Ay, masters, youth will +be served.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“’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.”</p> +<p>“Youth will be served, masters,” droned the old +man, shaking his head miserably.</p> +<p>“Fill up ’is glass,” said Warr. +“’Ere, Tom, give old Buckhorse a sup o’ +liptrap. Warm his ’eart for ’im.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“There’s Buckhorse!” they cried. +“Buckhorse is comin’ round again.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The company laughed again, and encouraged the old man by +half-derisive and half-affectionate cries.</p> +<p>“Let ’em ’ave it, Buckhorse! Give it +’em straight! Tell us how the millin’ coves did +it in your time.”</p> +<p>The old gladiator looked round him in great contempt.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Give ’im a wipe over the mouth,” said a +hoarse voice.</p> +<p>“Joe Berks,” said Jackson, “I’d save +the hangman the job of breaking your neck if His Royal Highness +wasn’t in the room.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“Sit down, Berks!” cried my uncle, with such a +tone of command that the fellow collapsed into his chair.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“What was that, Buckhorse?” cried several +voices.</p> +<p>“’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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well? Well?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Jackson having replied with a readiness which many a public +man might have envied, my uncle rose once more.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Sir Lothian rose with a paper in his hand.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I’ve seen him half a dozen times at the +least,” said Belcher.</p> +<p>“It is precisely for that reason, Sir John, that I am +laying odds of two to one in his favour.”</p> +<p>“May I ask,” said the Prince, “what the +exact height and weight of Wilson may be?”</p> +<p>“Five foot eleven and thirteen-ten, your Royal +Highness.”</p> +<p>“Long enough and heavy enough for anything on two +legs,” said Jackson, and the professionals all murmured +their assent.</p> +<p>“Read the rules of the fight, Sir Lothian.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>My uncle bowed.</p> +<p>“Have you anything to say, Wilson?”</p> +<p>The young pugilist, who had a curious, lanky figure, and a +craggy, bony face, passed his fingers through his close-cropped +hair.</p> +<p>“If you please, zir,” said he, with a slight +west-country burr, “a twenty-voot ring is too small for a +thirteen-stone man.”</p> +<p>There was another murmur of professional agreement.</p> +<p>“What would you have it, Wilson?”</p> +<p>“Vour-an’-twenty, Sir Lothian.”</p> +<p>“Have you any objection, Sir Charles?”</p> +<p>“Not the slightest.”</p> +<p>“Anything else, Wilson?”</p> +<p>“If you please, zir, I’d like to know whom +I’m vighting with.”</p> +<p>“I understand that you have not publicly nominated your +man, Sir Charles?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, if you choose to exercise it.”</p> +<p>“I do so intend. And I should be vastly pleased if +Mr. Berkeley Craven will consent to be stake-holder.”</p> +<p>That gentleman having willingly given his consent, the final +formalities which led up to these humble tournaments were +concluded.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Gentlemen,” said he, “there is a stranger +waiting below who desires a fight to a finish with the best men +in the room.”</p> +<h2><a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +179</span>CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE FIGHT IN THE COACH-HOUSE.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> 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.</p> +<p>“Is this genuine?” asked my uncle.</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir Charles,” answered the landlord; +“the man is waiting below.”</p> +<p>“It’s a kid!” cried several of the +fighting-men. “Some cove is a gammonin’ +us.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>“What weight is he, Bill?” asked Jem Belcher.</p> +<p>“He’s close on six foot, and I should put him well +into the thirteen stones when he’s buffed.”</p> +<p>“Heavy metal!” cried Jackson. “Who +takes him on?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Well, you can’t all fight him,” remarked +Jackson, when the babel had died away. “It’s +for the chairman to choose.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps your Royal Highness has a preference,” +said my uncle.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“I’ve seen your Royal Highness, and I have felt +your Royal Highness,” said the courtly Jackson.</p> +<p>“Perhaps Jem Belcher would give us an exhibition,” +said my uncle.</p> +<p>Belcher smiled and shook his handsome head.</p> +<p>“There’s my brother Tom here has never been +blooded in London yet, sir. He might make a fairer match of +it.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Wait a bit, Berks,” cried several of the +amateurs. “Where’s it going to be +held?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“They can’t fight here with all this +litter,” said my uncle. “Where shall it +be?”</p> +<p>“’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.”</p> +<p>“You are right, sir. We must have him +up.”</p> +<p>“That’s easy enough,” said the landlord, +“for here he comes through the doorway.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Harrison!” I gasped. “It’s Boy +Jim!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Let him alone, Harrison,” cried Jackson. +“He’s big enough to take care of himself.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Boy Jim stepped across and laid his hand upon the +prize-fighter’s shoulder.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Harrison shrugged his huge shoulders.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I trust, Harrison, that your opposition is +withdrawn?” said my uncle.</p> +<p>“Can I not take his place?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Whom am I to fight?” asked Jim, looking round at +the company, who were now all upon their feet.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>Jim looked at him with disgust in every line of his face.</p> +<p>“Surely you are not going to set me to fight a drunken +man!” said he. “Where is Jem +Belcher?”</p> +<p>“My name, young man.”</p> +<p>“I should be glad to try you, if I may.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I’m much obliged to you.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Have you any choice where the fight takes place?” +asked my uncle.</p> +<p>“I am in your hands, sir,” said Jim.</p> +<p>“Why not go round to the Five’s Court?” +suggested Sir John Lade.</p> +<p>“Yes, let us go to the Five’s Court.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I’d stop it if I were you,” he +whispered.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Wait on ’im yourself, then, and chuck up the +sponge when things begin to go wrong. You know Joe +Berks’s record?”</p> +<p>“He’s since my time.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What space do you give them?” asked my uncle.</p> +<p>“Twenty-four, as they are both big ones, sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Here’s our man,” cried Belcher. +“Come along, Berks, or we’ll go to fetch +you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Three to one.”</p> +<p>“Have you once in hundreds.”</p> +<p>“Very good, Craven! There they go! +Berks! Berks! Bravo! Berks! Bravo! +I think, Craven, that I shall trouble you for that +hundred.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Do you mind doubling our bet?” said Berkeley +Craven, who was craning his neck to get a glimpse of Jim.</p> +<p>“Four to one on Berks! Four to one on +Berks!” cried the ringsiders.</p> +<p>“The odds have gone up, you see. Will you have +four to one in hundreds?”</p> +<p>“Very good, Sir John.”</p> +<p>“You seem to fancy him more for having been knocked +down.”</p> +<p>“He was pushed down, but he stopped every blow, and I +liked the look on his face as he got up again.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 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.</p> +<p>“Where’s your country hawbuck now?” cried +Craven, triumphantly. “Did ever you witness anything +more masterly?”</p> +<p>“He’s no Johnny Raw, certainly,” said Sir +John, shaking his head. “What odds are you giving on +Berks, Lord Sole?”</p> +<p>“Two to one.”</p> +<p>“I take you twice in hundreds.”</p> +<p>“Here’s Sir John Lade hedging!” cried my +uncle, smiling back at us over his shoulder.</p> +<p>“Time!” said Jackson, and the two men sprang +forward to the mark again.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Bellows to mend!” cried Jem Belcher. +“Where’s the four to one now?”</p> +<p>“Give us time to get the lid off our pepper-box,” +said Mendoza. “We mean to make a night of +it.”</p> +<p>“Looks like it,” said Jack Harrison. +“He’s shut one of his eyes already. Even money +that my boy wins it!”</p> +<p>“How much?” asked several voices.</p> +<p>“Two pound four and threepence,” cried Harrison, +counting out all his worldly wealth.</p> +<p>“Time!” said Jackson once more.</p> +<p>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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Get your left on his mark, boy,” they shouted, +“then go to his head with the right.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“In four rounds!” he kept repeating in a sort of +an ecstasy. “Joe Berks in four rounds! And it +took Jem Belcher fourteen!”</p> +<p>“Well, Roddy,” cried Jim, holding out his hand, +“I told you that I would come to London and make my name +known.”</p> +<p>“It was splendid, Jim!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It is you who are changed, Jim,” said I; “I +hardly knew you when you came into the room.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Miss Hinton has been my friend—the best friend I +ever had.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Very good, Belcher,” I heard my uncle say.</p> +<p>“It would be a real pleasure to me to do it, sir,” +and the famous prize-fighter, as the two walked towards us.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“That is what I want, Sir Charles—to have a chance +of fighting my way upwards.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I shall fight for the honour, and because I wish to be +thought worthy of being matched against Jem Belcher.”</p> +<p>Belcher laughed good-humouredly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I did not wish to fight him,” said Jim, +flushing.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“Charge of me!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said my uncle. “Belcher has +consented to train you for the coming battle if you are willing +to enter.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“With all my heart,” said Jim.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Good night, Roddy,” said Jim. +“You’ll come down to Crawley and see me at my +training quarters, will you not?”</p> +<p>And I heartily promised that I would.</p> +<p>“You must be more careful, nephew,” said my uncle, +as we rattled home in his model <i>vis-à-vis</i>. +“<i>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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Hum!” said my uncle, drily, and it was the last +word that he addressed to me that night.</p> +<h2><a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +201</span>CHAPTER XII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE COFFEE-ROOM OF +FLADONG’S.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“And I had rather wear it, father.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“He is riding in the Mall.”</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Here’s Cuddie Collingwood,” whispered my +father.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I was third of the <i>Theseus</i>, under Millar, +sir.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, Troubridge, I can understand and sympathize +with your feelings.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Collingwood shook the hand of the unfortunate captain.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The melancholy cleared away from the massive face of the big +seaman, and his deep laughter filled the room.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I had thought, sir, that it was inland,” said my +father.</p> +<p>Collingwood took a little black bag out of his pocket and +shook it.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Bullets,” said Troubridge.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>My father shook his head.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>He replaced his bag in his pocket, and then, passing his arm +through Troubridge’s, they went through the door +together.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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 a quick, irascible, high-blooded man, for he was talking +hotly about his grievances with a flush of anger upon his +freckled cheeks.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Frenchy has his fore and maintop-gallant masts about +equal,” said my father.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Frenchy has white sails,” cried several.</p> +<p>“And ours are black and rotten. That’s the +difference. No wonder they outsail us when the wind can +blow through our canvas.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>But Lord Cochrane was on the other side in this question.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What the cruiser gets the cruiser earns,” cried a +frigate captain.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“I do not claim higher ability, sir.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I cannot see their grievance, Captain Ball,” said +Cochrane.</p> +<p>“When you are promoted to a two-decker, my lord, it will +possibly become clearer to you.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Sir,” said the angry old sailor, “such an +officer is at least in no danger of being mistaken for a +privateersman.”</p> +<p>“I am surprised, Captain Bulkeley,” Cochran +retorted hotly, “that you should venture to couple the +names of privateersman and King’s officer.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What is it? What has happened?” cried a +score of voices.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +221</span>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LORD NELSON.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Lieutenant Anson Stone?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, your ladyship,” answered my father.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she cried, with an affected and exaggerated +start, “you know me, then?”</p> +<p>“I have seen your ladyship at Naples.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“I heard of your ladyship’s sad loss,” said +my father.</p> +<p>“We died together,” she cried. “What +can my life be now save a long-drawn living death?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“We heard the news last night.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I had come to ask you, sir, if you could assist me to a +ship.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“To-night, my lord.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Well, young gentleman!” said he, sharply.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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</i>.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I trust, my lord, that I shall be with you when next we +meet them,” said my father.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“That it was a sign, sir, that it was a bad hour to +cross your hawse.”</p> +<p>“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 +manœuvres! Go for them! The only manœuvre +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?”</p> +<p>“East-south-east,” my father answered, +readily.</p> +<p>“Then Cornwallis is, doubtless, keeping well up to +Brest, though, for my own part, I had rather tempt them out into +the open sea.”</p> +<p>“That is what every officer and man in the fleet would +prefer, your lordship,” said my father.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>The footman had suddenly precipitated himself into the room, +but stood abashed before the fierce glare of the admiral’s +eye.</p> +<p>“Your lordship told me to rush to you if it should +come,” he explained, holding out a large blue envelope.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<h2><a name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +234</span>CHAPTER XIV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ON THE ROAD.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“That is all very well, Rodney,” said he, looking +hard into my eyes. “But what does your uncle think +about it?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>I had to assure him that the feat would be beyond me.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, sir,” +said I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“A person to see you, Sir Charles,” said the new +valet.</p> +<p>“You know that I never see any one until my dressing is +complete.”</p> +<p>“He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open +the door.”</p> +<p>“Pushed it open! What d’you mean, +Lorimer? Why didn’t you put him out?”</p> +<p>A smile passed over the servant’s face. At the +same moment there came a deep voice from the passage.</p> +<p>“You show me in this instant, young man, d’ye +’ear? Let me see your master, or it’ll be the +worse for you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It’s Warr, the prizefighter, sir,” said +I.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It’s important, Sir Charles, and between man and +man,” said he.</p> +<p>“You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the +matter?”</p> +<p>The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with +his arms resting upon the back of it.</p> +<p>“I’ve got information, Sir Charles,” said +he.</p> +<p>“Well, what is it?” cried my uncle, +impatiently.</p> +<p>“Information of value.”</p> +<p>“Out with it, then!”</p> +<p>“Information that’s worth money,” said Warr, +and pursed up his lips.</p> +<p>“I see. You want to be paid for what you +know?”</p> +<p>The prizefighter smiled an affirmative.</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t buy things on trust. You +should know me better than to try on such a game with +me.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You can do what you like,” said my uncle. +“If your news is of service to me, I shall know how to +treat you.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What of that?”</p> +<p>“Did you ’appen to know what the bettin’ was +yesterday?”</p> +<p>“It was three to two on Wilson.”</p> +<p>“Right you are, gov’nor. Three to two was +offered in my own bar-parlour. D’you know what the +bettin’ is to-day?”</p> +<p>“I have not been out yet.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll tell you. It’s seven to one +against your man.”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“Seven to one, gov’nor, no less.”</p> +<p>“You’re talking nonsense, Warr! How could +the betting change from three to two to seven to one?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“All the worse for the fools who give the odds,” +said he. “My man is all right. You saw him +yesterday, nephew?”</p> +<p>“He was all right yesterday, sir.”</p> +<p>“If anything had gone wrong I should have +heard.”</p> +<p>“But perhaps,” said Warr, “it ’as not +gone wrong with ’im <i>yet</i>.”</p> +<p>“What d’you mean?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Jackson ’as asked me to be one o’ the +beaters-out, sir.”</p> +<p>“Very good. I hope that we shall have a fair and +good fight. Good day to you, and thank you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>The prizefighter was hastening towards us as fast as his bulk +would allow.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Very good, Warr,” said my uncle, with his foot +upon the step.</p> +<p>“And the odds ’ave risen to ten to one.”</p> +<p>“Let go her head, William!”</p> +<p>“Just one more word, gov’nor. You’ll +excuse the liberty, but if I was you I’d take my pistols +with me.”</p> +<p>“Thank you; I have them.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I have a good deal at stake, nephew,” said +he.</p> +<p>“So have I, sir,” I answered.</p> +<p>“You!” he cried, in surprise.</p> +<p>“My friend, sir.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I fear that it will.”</p> +<p>“In that case we may be too late.”</p> +<p>“Pray God not, sir!”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You know Berks, the bruiser?” asked my uncle.</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir Charles.”</p> +<p>“Has he passed?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Jim and Belcher would surely be a match for the four of +them,” I suggested.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +253</span>CHAPTER XV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">FOUL PLAY.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“How is he?” asked my uncle, quickly.</p> +<p>“Never better, sir. Looks a picture, he +does—and fit to fight for a kingdom.”</p> +<p>My uncle gave a sigh of relief.</p> +<p>“Where is he?” he asked.</p> +<p>“He’s gone to his room early, sir, seein’ +that he had some very partic’lar business to-morrow +mornin’,” said the landlord, grinning.</p> +<p>“Where is Belcher?”</p> +<p>“Here he is, in the bar parlour.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>There was a shout of jovial greeting when my uncle’s +face was seen in the doorway.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>The Champion came out with us into the passage.</p> +<p>“Where is your man, Belcher?”</p> +<p>“He has gone to his room, sir. I believe that he +should have a clear twelve hours’ sleep before +fighting.”</p> +<p>“What sort of day has he had?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Belcher whistled between his teeth.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Four villains, with Berks at their head, got the start +of us by several hours. It was Warr who told me.”</p> +<p>“What Bill Warr says is straight, and what Joe Berks +does is crooked. Who were the others, sir?”</p> +<p>“Red Ike, Fighting Yussef, and Chris +McCarthy.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It is a pity to wake him.”</p> +<p>“He can hardly be asleep with all this racket in the +house. This way, sir, and down the passage!”</p> +<p>We passed along the low-roofed, devious corridors of the +old-fashioned inn to the back of the house.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It seems that we are too late,” said he.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“A woman!” I cried.</p> +<p>“By Heaven, you’re right, nephew,” said my +uncle.</p> +<p>Belcher gave a hearty curse.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The bright yellow glare from a stable lantern cut a ring +suddenly from the darkness, and an ostler came lounging out of +the yard.</p> +<p>“Who’s that?” cried the landlord.</p> +<p>“It’s me, master! Bill Shields.”</p> +<p>“How long have you been there, Bill?”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>I cast a quick glance at my uncle, and I saw that the shadow +had deepened upon his face.</p> +<p>“What became of him?” he asked.</p> +<p>“’E slouched away, sir, an’ I saw the last +of ’im.”</p> +<p>“You’ve seen no one else? You didn’t, +for example, see a woman and a man pass down the lane +together?”</p> +<p>“No, sir.”</p> +<p>“Or hear anything unusual?”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“What was it, then?” cried my uncle, +impatiently.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Where did it come from?”</p> +<p>“From the side road, yonder.”</p> +<p>“Was it distant?”</p> +<p>“No, sir; I should say it didn’t come from +more’n two hundred yards.”</p> +<p>“A single cry?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page261"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +261</span>CHAPTER XVI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CRAWLEY DOWNS.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Let me see! The fight was to be at ten, was it +not?” he asked.</p> +<p>“It was to be.”</p> +<p>“I dare say it will be, too. Never say die, +Tregellis! Your man has still three hours in which to come +back.”</p> +<p>My uncle shook his head.</p> +<p>“The villains have done their work too well for that, I +fear,” said he.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>My uncle looked at me.</p> +<p>“No,” said I. “I know of +none.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I see no better explanation,” said my uncle.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I dare say you are right, Craven,” said he.</p> +<p>“I am sure that I am.”</p> +<p>“But it won’t help us to win the fight.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I shall certainly do so. And I shall protest +against paying the wagers under such circumstances.”</p> +<p>Craven shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>We had sunk into a melancholy silence, when suddenly Belcher +sprang up from the table.</p> +<p>“Hark!” he cried. “Listen to +that!”</p> +<p>“What is it?” we cried, all three.</p> +<p>“The betting! Listen again!”</p> +<p>Out of the babel of voices and roaring of wheels outside the +window a single sentence struck sharply on our ears.</p> +<p>“Even money upon Sir Charles’s nominee!”</p> +<p>“Even money!” cried my uncle. “It was +seven to one against me, yesterday. What is the meaning of +this?”</p> +<p>“Even money either way,” cried the voice +again.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What’s the betting, boys?” asked Belcher, +from the steps.</p> +<p>“Even money, Jim,” cried several voices.</p> +<p>“It was long odds on Wilson when last I +heard.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Who started it?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Belcher stooped down and turned over the man’s inert +head so as to show his features.</p> +<p>“He’s a stranger to me, sir.”</p> +<p>“And to me,” added my uncle.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well, what the devil can <i>he</i> know about +it?” said Craven.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I am waiting here to give the office, Sir +Charles,” said he. “It’s down the +Grinstead road, half a mile to the left.”</p> +<p>“Very good,” said my uncle, reining his mares +round into the cross-road.</p> +<p>“You haven’t got your man there,” remarked +Mendoza, with something of suspicion in his manner.</p> +<p>“What the devil is that to you?” cried Belcher, +furiously.</p> +<p>“It’s a good deal to all of us, for there are some +funny stories about.”</p> +<p>“You keep them to yourself, then, or you may wish you +had never heard them.”</p> +<p>“All right, Jem! Your breakfast don’t seem +to have agreed with you this morning.”</p> +<p>“Have the others arrived?” asked my uncle, +carelessly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You take it like a man, Tregellis,” said +Craven. “We must keep a bold face and brazen it out +until the last moment.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It’s they. They are in time,” said my +uncle and Craven together.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My uncle bowed coldly, and made no answer.</p> +<p>“I suppose that since we are all here we may begin at +once,” said Sir Lothian, taking no notice of the +other’s manner.</p> +<p>“We begin at ten o’clock. Not an instant +before.”</p> +<p>“Very good, if you prefer it. By the way, Sir +Charles, where is your man?”</p> +<p>“I would ask <i>you</i> that question, Sir +Lothian,” answered my uncle. “Where is my +man?”</p> +<p>A look of astonishment passed over Sir Lothian’s +features, which, if it were not real, was most admirably +affected.</p> +<p>“What do you mean by asking me such a +question?”</p> +<p>“Because I wish to know.”</p> +<p>“But how can I tell, and what business is it of +mine?”</p> +<p>“I have reason to believe that you have made it your +business.”</p> +<p>“If you would kindly put the matter a little more +clearly there would be some possibility of my understanding +you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a grievance +against me, you will oblige me vastly by putting it into +words.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>An ugly sneer came over Sir Lothian’s saturnine +face.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Sir,” answered my uncle, “you are a liar, +but how great a liar you are nobody knows save +yourself.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It does not become our position to quarrel like two +yokels at a fair,” said he; “we shall go further into +the matter afterwards.”</p> +<p>“I promise you that we shall,” answered my uncle, +grimly.</p> +<p>“Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of your wager. +Unless you produce your nominee within five-and-twenty minutes, I +claim the match.”</p> +<p>“Eight-and-twenty minutes,” said my uncle, looking +at his watch. “You may claim it then, but not an +instant before.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I have been asked to be sole referee in this +matter,” said he. “Does that meet with your +wishes, Sir Charles?”</p> +<p>“I should be vastly obliged to you, Craven, if you will +undertake the duties.”</p> +<p>“And Jackson has been suggested as +timekeeper.”</p> +<p>“I could not wish a better one.”</p> +<p>“Very good. That is settled.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“The betting keeps up for all that,” said +Belcher. “I’ve just been to the ring-side, and +it is still even.”</p> +<p>“There’s a place for you at the outer ropes, Sir +Charles,” said Craven.</p> +<p>“There is no sign of my man yet. I won’t +come in until he arrives.”</p> +<p>“It is my duty to tell you that only ten minutes are +left.”</p> +<p>“I make it five,” cried Sir Lothian Hume.</p> +<p>“That is a question which lies with the referee,” +said Craven, firmly. “My watch makes it ten minutes, +and ten it must be.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Sir Lothian Hume had been looking impatiently at his watch, +and now he shut it with a triumphant snap.</p> +<p>“Time’s up!” he cried. “The +match is forfeit.”</p> +<p>“Time is not up,” said Craven.</p> +<p>“I have still five minutes.” My uncle looked +round with despairing eyes.</p> +<p>“Only three, Tregellis!”</p> +<p>A deep angry murmur was rising from the crowd.</p> +<p>“It’s a cross! It’s a cross! +It’s a fake!” was the cry.</p> +<p>“Two minutes, Tregellis!”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“One more minute, Tregellis! I am very sorry, but +it will be my duty to declare it forfeit against you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Saved, by the Lord!” screamed Belcher.</p> +<p>“I rather fancy,” said my uncle, calmly, +“that this must be my man.”</p> +<p>“Too late!” cried Sir Lothian.</p> +<p>“No,” answered the referee. “It was +still twenty seconds to the hour. The fight will now +proceed.”</p> +<h2><a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>CHAPTER XVII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE RING-SIDE.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Out</span> 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.</p> +<p>“There is no hurry now, I presume, Craven,” said +my uncle, as coolly as if this sudden effect had been carefully +devised by him.</p> +<p>“Now that your man has his hat in the ring you can take +as much time as you like, Sir Charles.”</p> +<p>“Your friend has certainly cut it rather fine, +nephew.”</p> +<p>“It is not Jim, sir,” I whispered. “It +is some one else.”</p> +<p>My uncle’s eyebrows betrayed his astonishment.</p> +<p>“Some one else!” he ejaculated.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, you heard I was coming,” said the +smith.</p> +<p>“Indeed, I did not.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“We saw him dead drunk at the George.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“That’s how the betting got turned,” said my +uncle. “He found others to follow his lead, it +appears.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“She’s not a patron of sport, and that’s a +fact,” said the smith.</p> +<p>“Sport!” she cried, with shrill contempt and +anger. “Tell me when all is over.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>In the mean time Sir Lothian Hume had come bustling up to the +Honourable Berkeley Craven, who was still standing near our +curricle.</p> +<p>“I beg to lodge a formal protest against these +proceedings,” said he.</p> +<p>“On what grounds, sir?”</p> +<p>“Because the man produced is not the original nominee of +Sir Charles Tregellis.”</p> +<p>“I never named one, as you are well aware,” said +my uncle.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Forty-one next month, master.”</p> +<p>“Very good. I direct that the fight +proceed.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I presume that you have a warrant, sir?” said +Craven.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I have a warrant.”</p> +<p>“Then I have a legal right to inspect it.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“This seems to be correct, sir,” said he.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What do you think of your chances, Harrison?” I +heard my uncle ask, as the two mares picked their way over the +broken ground.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“But your training?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“He’s rather long in the reach for you.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“He <i>was</i> acting under force, Sir +Charles.”</p> +<p>“You have seen him, then?”</p> +<p>“No, master, I have not seen him.”</p> +<p>“You know where he is?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The ominous figure galloped up once more alongside of our +curricle, but this time his mission was a more amiable one.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“He was, you mean.”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t see no such difference as all that +comes to, and I’m putting ten guineas on my +opinion.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Tut,” answered the west-countryman. +“It’s only in Bristol and Gloucester that you can get +men to beat Bristol and Gloucester.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I hope I see you well, Wilson,” said he.</p> +<p>“Pretty tidy, I thank you,” answered the +other. “We’ll speak to each other in a +different vashion, I ’spects, afore we part.”</p> +<p>“But no ill-feeling,” said the smith, and the two +fighting men grinned at each other as they took their own +corners.</p> +<p>“May I ask, Mr. Referee, whether these two men have been +weighed?” asked Sir Lothian Hume, standing up in the outer +ring.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“He’s a fifteen-stoner from the loins +upwards,” cried Dutch Sam, from his corner.</p> +<p>“We’ll get some of it off him before we +finish.”</p> +<p>“You’ll get more off him than ever you bargained +for,” answered Jim Belcher, and the crowd laughed at the +rough chaff.</p> +<h2><a name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +294</span>CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE SMITH’S LAST BATTLE.</span></h2> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Clear</span> the outer ring!” +cried Jackson, standing up beside the ropes with a big silver +watch in his hand.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“All ready!” from both corners.</p> +<p>“Time!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“First knock-down for Harrison!” roared a thousand +voices, for ten times as many pounds would change hands upon the +point.</p> +<p>“I appeal to the referee!” cried Sir Lothian +Hume. “It was a slip, and not a +knock-down.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Have a care, Jack!” whispered the anxious +second. “You got rather more than you +gave.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“We’ve got him! He’s beat! +He’s beat!” shouted the two Jew seconds. +“It’s a hundred to a tizzy on Gloucester!”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“How is it with you, Harrison?” asked my +uncle.</p> +<p>“Hearty as a buck, sir. It’s as right as the +day.”</p> +<p>The cheery answer came with so merry a ring that the clouds +cleared from my uncle’s face.</p> +<p>“You should recommend your man to lead more, +Tregellis,” said Sir John Lade. “He’ll +never win it unless he leads.”</p> +<p>“He knows more about the game than you or I do, +Lade. I’ll let him take his own way.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“This won’t do, Tregellis,” said General +Fitzpatrick. “My money is on the old one, but the +other is the finer boxer.”</p> +<p>“My man is <i>un peu passé</i>, but he will come +through all right,” answered my uncle.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What think you now?” shouted all the neighbours +of the west-countryman, repeating his own refrain.</p> +<p>“Why, Dutch Sam never put in a better rally,” +cried Sir John Lade. “What’s the betting now, +Sir Lothian?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 +manœuvre 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“He’s got the roly-polies,” cried +Belcher. “You have it your own way now!”</p> +<p>“I’ll vight for a week yet,” gasped +Wilson.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“Take him away! Take him away!” echoed a +hundred voices.</p> +<p>“I won’t be taken away! Who dares say +so?” cried Wilson, who was back, after another fall, upon +his second’s knee.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You think he can’t win it?”</p> +<p>“He is hopelessly beat, sir.”</p> +<p>“You don’t know him. He’s a glutton of +the first water.”</p> +<p>“A gamer man never pulled his shirt off; but the other +is too strong for him.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“The ring’s broken!” shouted Sir Lothian +Hume. “I appeal to the referee! The fight is +null and void.”</p> +<p>“You villain!” cried my uncle, hotly; “this +is your doing.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“We will settle our accounts, never fear, though I +degrade myself in meeting such a blackleg. What is it, +Craven?”</p> +<p>“We shall have to declare a draw, Tregellis.”</p> +<p>“My man has the fight in hand.”</p> +<p>“I cannot help it. I cannot attend to my duties +when every moment I am cut over with a whip or a +stick.”</p> +<p>Jackson suddenly made a wild dash into the crowd, but returned +with empty hands and a rueful face.</p> +<p>“They’ve stolen my timekeeper’s +watch,” he cried. “A little cove snatched it +out of my hand.”</p> +<p>My uncle clapped his hand to his fob.</p> +<p>“Mine has gone also!” he cried.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Do you consent to a draw, Sir Lothian Hume?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“And you, Sir Charles?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> +<p>“The ring is gone.”</p> +<p>“That is no fault of mine.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“I hope I have not hurt you much.”</p> +<p>“I’m hard put to it to stand. How are +you?”</p> +<p>“My head’s singin’ like a kettle. It +was the rain that helped me.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I thought I had you beat one time. I never +wish a better battle.”</p> +<p>“Nor me either. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page314"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +314</span>CHAPTER XIX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CLIFFE ROYAL.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What make you of this, nephew?” he asked, handing +it to me.</p> +<p>This was what I read—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Sir Charles +Tregellis</span>,</p> +<p>“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</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<span class="smcap">James +Harrison</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Well, nephew?” asked my uncle.</p> +<p>“Why, sir, I cannot tell what it may mean.”</p> +<p>“Who gave it to you, sirrah?”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My uncle put the note into his pocket.</p> +<p>“I don’t move until I have seen you safely in the +hands of the surgeon, Harrison.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You remember me, Sir Charles Tregellis,” said +she, coming forward, as we sprang down from the curricle.</p> +<p>My uncle looked hard at her with a puzzled face.</p> +<p>“I do not think that I have the privilege, madame. +And yet—”</p> +<p>“Polly Hinton, of the Haymarket. You surely cannot +have forgotten Polly Hinton.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“I was privately married, and I retired from the +stage. I want you to forgive me for taking Jim away from +you last night.”</p> +<p>“It was you, then?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“Your uncle would have won it, but the roughs broke the +ring.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Now, sirrah, your explanation!” cried Sir +Lothian, standing with his arms folded by the door.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Why did he not leave a message with Belcher?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps Sir Lothian Hume could tell you,” said my +uncle.</p> +<p>Our enemy said nothing; but his little grey eyes slid round +with a most murderous glance in our direction.</p> +<p>“After I had come here and seen my father I went +down—”</p> +<p>My uncle stopped him with a cry of astonishment.</p> +<p>“What did you say, young man? You came here and +you saw your father—here at Cliffe Royal?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>My uncle had turned very pale.</p> +<p>“In God’s name, then, tell us who your father +is!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>There was an instant of silence, broken by a deep oath from +Sir Lothian Hume—</p> +<p>“Lord Avon, by God!” he cried.</p> +<p>“Very much at your service, gentlemen,” answered +the strange figure in the dressing-gown.</p> +<h2><a name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +326</span>CHAPTER XX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LORD AVON.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> 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.</p> +<p>“Ned!” he cried.</p> +<p>But the strange man who stood before him folded his arms over +his breast.</p> +<p>“No Charles,” said he.</p> +<p>My uncle stopped and looked at him in amazement.</p> +<p>“Surely, Ned, you have a greeting for me after all these +years?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“No, no, Ned.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Then he is really your son!” cried my uncle, +staring at Jim in amazement.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“He is my lawful son.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I have already explained, Sir Lothian, why I kept my +marriage secret.”</p> +<p>“You have explained, sir; but it is for others in +another place to say if that explanation is +satisfactory.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“You dare to doubt my word?”</p> +<p>“I demand a proof.”</p> +<p>“My word is proof to those who know me.”</p> +<p>“Excuse me, Lord Avon; but I know you, and I see no +reason why I should accept your statement.”</p> +<p>It was a brutal speech, and brutally delivered. Lord +Avon staggered forward, and it was only his son on one side 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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“He has gone to denounce me,” said Lord Avon, a +spasm of wounded pride distorting his features.</p> +<p>“Shall I bring him back?” cried Boy Jim.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean when you talk about the evidence of +your own eyes?” asked Lord Avon, looking hard at my +uncle.</p> +<p>“I saw you, Ned, upon that accursed night.”</p> +<p>“Saw me? Where?”</p> +<p>“In the passage.”</p> +<p>“And doing what?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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 hope 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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I thank God that I hear you say so.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Your word is enough for me, Ned; but the world will +wish this other question answered also.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“It has been pricked with a pin.”</p> +<p>“Precisely. What is the card?”</p> +<p>My uncle turned it over.</p> +<p>“It is the king of clubs.”</p> +<p>“Try the bottom corner of this one.”</p> +<p>“It is quite smooth.”</p> +<p>“And the card is?”</p> +<p>“The three of spades.”</p> +<p>“And this one?”</p> +<p>“It has been pricked. It is the ace of +hearts.” Lord Avon hurled them down upon the +floor.</p> +<p>“There you have the whole accursed story!” he +cried. “Need I go further where every word is an +agony?”</p> +<p>“I see something, but not all. You must continue, +Ned.”</p> +<p>The frail figure stiffened itself, as though he were visibly +bracing himself for an effort.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>My uncle drew a long sigh of relief.</p> +<p>“Nothing could be clearer!” he murmured.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“It was I, father,” cried Boy Jim; “I and my +friend, Rodney Stone.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“That I dare swear,” said my uncle, heartily.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“My dear friend, I would not for the +world—”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>There was silence for some time, and then it was my +uncle’s voice which broke it.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<h2><a name="page340"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +340</span>CHAPTER XXI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE VALET’S STORY.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> 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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Ambrose, you are a black villain,” said my +uncle.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“They will arrest me!” he cried. “I +must submit to the degradation of an arrest.”</p> +<p>“This way, Sir James; this way,” said the harsh +tones of Sir Lothian Hume from without.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“I am ready to answer the charge.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The squire’s weather-stained face flushed to a deeper +red as he turned upon the Londoner.</p> +<p>“Are you the magistrate of a county, sir?”</p> +<p>“I have not the honour, Sir James.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“You take too high a tone in this matter, Sir +James. I am not accustomed to be taken to task so +sharply.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Sir Lothian bowed.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Yours is a true heart, James.”</p> +<p>“Tut, tut! it is the due process of the law. I +trust, Sir Lothian Hume, that you find nothing to object to in +it?”</p> +<p>Sir Lothian shrugged his shoulders, and looked blackly at the +magistrate. Then he turned to my uncle.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Beg your pardon, Sir Charles,” said he; +“but it shocks me very much to see your cravat.”</p> +<p>“You are right, Ambrose,” my uncle answered. +“Lorimer does his best, but I have never been able to fill +your place.”</p> +<p>“I should be proud to serve you, sir; but you must +acknowledge that Lord Avon has the prior claim. If he will +release me—”</p> +<p>“You may go, Ambrose; you may go!” cried Lord +Avon. “You are an excellent servant, but your +presence has become painful to me.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Ned,” said my uncle. “But +you must not leave me so suddenly again, Ambrose.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<h2><a name="page355"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +355</span>CHAPTER XXII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE END.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir James Ovington’s</span> 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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Happy to serve you in any way, Sir Charles,” said +he. “We’ve arranged it for to-morrow at seven +on Ditching Common.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“They are stopping across the road at the Friar’s +Oak inn, and if you would wish it later—”</p> +<p>“No, no; I shall make the effort. Ambrose, you +will bring up the <i>batteris de toilette</i> at five.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Ten minutes may have passed, and then I heard the clatter of +many steps, and a knot of men came clustering through the +door.</p> +<p>“You need not employ violence,” said a harsh, +clear voice. “On whose suit is it?”</p> +<p>“Several suits, sir. They ’eld over in the +’opes that you’d pull off the fight this +mornin’. Total amounts is twelve thousand +pound.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t do it, sir, really. It’s +more than our places as sheriff’s officers is +worth.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I can’t mount the carriage unless you free my +hands,” said he.</p> +<p>“’Old ’ard, Bill, for ’e looks +vicious. Let go o’ one arm at a time! Ah, would +you then?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“He’s napped it this time! Get ’im by +the wrists, Jim! Now, all together!”</p> +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><b>THE END.</b></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">PRINTED BY +GARDEN CITY PRESS, LETCHWORTH, ENGLAND.</span></p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODNEY STONE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 5148-h.htm or 5148-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/4/5148 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RODNEY STONE *** + + + + +Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk, from the +1921 Eveleigh Nash & Grayson edition. + + + + +RODNEY STONE + + + + +PREFACE + + + +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." + +I am also much indebted to my friends Mr. J. C. Parkinson and Robert +Barr for information upon the subject of the ring. + +A. CONAN DOYLE. +HASLEMERE, +September 1, 1896. + + + +CHAPTER I--FRIAR'S OAK + + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"What's that?" cried the driver, pulling up his team. + +"I bid you have a care, master, or there will be some one-eyed folk +along the road you drive." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"I'll pay you for your advice, my man," said he. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Have a care, master," said he. "You'll get pepper if you don't." + +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. + +"By Gad!" he cried, "it's Jack Harrison!" + +"My name, master!" + +"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." + +How they roared on the coach. + +"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." + +But the driver had already climbed back into his perch, laughing as +loudly as any of his companions. + +"We'll let you off this time, Harrison," said he. "Are those your +sons down there?" + +"This is my nephew, master." + +"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. + + + +CHAPTER II--THE WALKER OF CLIFFE ROYAL + + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +And it was not long before he made good his promise. + +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. + +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. + +It was this pride of Boy Jim's which led to an adventure which makes +me shiver now when I think of it. + +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. + +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. + +"Roddy," said he, "have you heard that Cliffe Royal is haunted?" + +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? + +"Do you know the story of it, Roddy?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Tell me the story, Roddy." + +"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. + +"And Lord Avon did it?" + +"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." + +"Did they hang him, then?" + +"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." + +"And the ghost walks?" + +"There are many who have seen it." + +"Why is the house still empty?" + +"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." + +Jim lay silent for a bit, plucking at the short grass with his +fingers. + +"Roddy," said he at last, "will you come with me to-night and look +for the ghost?" + +It turned me cold, the very thought of it. + +"My mother would not let me." + +"Slip out when she's abed. I'll wait for you at the smithy." + +"Cliffe Royal is locked." + +"I'll open a window easy enough." + +"I'm afraid, Jim." + +"But you are not afraid if you are with me, Roddy. I'll promise you +that no ghost shall hurt you." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"We're in luck, Roddy," whispered Jim. "Here's one of the windows +open." + +"Don't you think we've gone far enough, Jim?" said I, with my teeth +chattering. + +"I'll lift you in first." + +"No, no, I'll not go first." + +"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. + +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. + +"What an old drum of a place it is!" he cried; "we'll strike a +light, Roddy, and see where we are." + +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. + +"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. + +"This is where they played the cards, Jim," said I, in a hushed +voice. "It was on that very table." + +"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. + +"I wonder whence that stair leads?" said Jim. + +"Don't go up there, Jim!" I cried, clutching at his arm. "That must +lead to the room of the murder." + +"How do you know that?" + +"The vicar said that they saw on the ceiling--Oh, Jim, you can see +it even now!" + +He held up his candle, and there was a great, dark smudge upon the +white plaster above us. + +"I believe you're right," said he; "but anyhow I'm going to have a +look at it." + +"Don't, Jim, don't!" I cried. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Can you stand, Roddy?" + +"Yes, but I'm shaking." + +"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." + +"Could it have been a man, Jim?" I asked, plucking up my courage now +that I could hear the dogs barking on the farms. + +"It was a spirit, Rodney." + +"How do you know?" + +"Because I followed it and saw it vanish into a wall, as easily as +an eel into sand. Why, Roddy, what's amiss now?" + +My fears were all back upon me, and every nerve creeping with +horror. + +"Take me away, Jim! Take me away!" I cried. + +I was glaring down the avenue, and his eyes followed mine. Amid the +gloom of the oak trees something was coming towards us. + +"Quiet, Roddy!" whispered Jim. "By heavens, come what may, my arms +are going round it this time." + +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. + +Jim sprang upon it like a tiger. + +"YOU'RE not a spirit, anyway!" he cried. + +The man gave a shout of surprise, and then a growl of rage. + +"What the deuce!" he roared, and then, "I'll break your neck if you +don't let go." + +The threat might not have loosened Jim's grip, but the voice did. + +"Why, uncle!" he cried. + +"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?" + +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. + +"We're exploring," said Jim. + +"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?" + +"I'm not afraid, uncle. I never was afraid; but spirits are new to +me, and--" + +"Spirits?" + +"I've been in Cliffe Royal, and we've seen the ghost." + +The Champion gave a whistle. + +"That's the game, is it?" said he. "Did you have speech with it?" + +"It vanished first." + +The Champion whistled once more. + +"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." + +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. + +"What took YOU up to Cliffe Royal, uncle?" + +"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." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER III--THE PLAY-ACTRESS OF ANSTEY CROSS + + + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"We are the people of England!" cried young Master Ovington, the son +of the Tory Squire. + +"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." + +We thought him very wicked then, but, looking back, I am not sure +that we were not very wicked ourselves. + +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. + +"Do you fight, Dan?" asked Tom. + +"Yes, Tom; thou must fight for it." + +On which Tom drew his pistol, and blew Dan's brains out. + +"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." + +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 - + + +"Alas! Swift flew the fatal lead +Which pierced through the young man's head. +He instantly fell, resigned his breath, +And closed his languid eyes in death." + + +There was more of it, and I dare say it is all still to be read in +Patcham Churchyard. + +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. + +"Good gracious!" she cried. "What a vulgar-looking woman!" + +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. + +"What a dreadful sight!" cried my mother. + +"What is amiss with her, mother?" + +"Heaven forgive me if I misjudge her, Rodney, but I think that the +unfortunate woman has been drinking." + +"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. + +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. + +"Is that he?" I heard her ask. + +Champion Harrison nodded. + +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. + +"I hope--I hope you're well," she stammered. + +"Very well, ma'am," said Jim, staring from her to his uncle. + +"And happy too?" + +"Yes, ma'am, I thank you." + +"Nothing that you crave for?" + +"Why, no, ma'am, I have all that I lack." + +"That will do, Jim," said his uncle, in a stern voice. "Blow up the +forge again, for that shoe wants reheating." + +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. + +"To-morrow, then?" she cried loud out. + +"To-morrow," he answered. + +"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. + +"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." + +"I don't want her help, uncle, and I don't want to see her." + +"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." + +"What would she want to talk with such as me about?" + +"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." + +"Well, uncle, I'll go if Roddy Stone will go with me," said Jim. + +"Of course he'll go. Won't you, Master Rodney?" + +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. + +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. + +"Miss Hinton cannot see you," said she. + +"But she asked us to come," said Jim. + +"I can't help that," cried the woman, in a rude voice. "I tell you +that she can't see you." + +We stood irresolute for a minute. + +"Maybe you would just tell her I am here," said Jim, at last. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"You'll not tell any one, Roddy," said he. + +"Not unless it's my mother." + +"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." + +"She was so yesterday, Jim." + +"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." + +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. + +"My uncle has had a letter," said he. "She would speak with me, and +I would be easier if you came with me, Rod." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Boy Jim, ma'am," said I. + +"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." + +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. + +"Come now, little man," said she to me, when the table had been +cleared. "Why are you looking round so much?" + +"Because there are so many pretty things upon the walls." + +"And which do you think the prettiest of them?" + +"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. + +"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." + +I did as she asked, and read out: "Miss Polly Hinton, as 'Peggy,' +in The Country Wife, played for her benefit at the Haymarket +Theatre, September 14th, 1782." + +"It's a play-actress," said I. + +"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?" + +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. + +"Why, where are your eyes?" she cried at last. "_I_ was Miss Polly +Hinton of the Haymarket Theatre. And perhaps you never heard the +name before?" + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"I have never been inside a play-house," said he; "I know nothing of +them." + +"Nor I either." + +"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." + +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. + +"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 Pizarro." + +"And who wrote it, ma'am?" + +"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." + +"And you play no longer, ma'am?" + +"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." + +"It was but the thought of that poor woman and her child." + +"Tut, never think about her! I will soon wipe her from your mind. +This is 'Miss Priscilla Tomboy,' from The Romp. You must conceive +that the mother is speaking, and that the forward young minx is +answering. + +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. + +"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." + +She vanished into her cupboard, and came out with a bottle and +glass, which she placed upon the table. + +"You are too young for strong waters," she said, "but this talking +gives one a dryness, and--" + +Then it was that Boy Jim did a wonderful thing. He rose from his +chair, and he laid his hand upon the bottle. + +"Don't!" said he. + +She looked him in the face, and I can still see those black eyes of +hers softening before the gaze. + +"Am I to have none?" + +"Please, don't." + +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. + +"There, Jim!" said she; "does that satisfy you? It's long since any +one cared whether I drank or no." + +"You are too good and kind for that," said he. + +"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." + +"What's that, miss?" + +"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." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER IV--THE PEACE OF AMIENS + + + +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. + +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. + +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 Theseus, 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 Aurora frigate, engaged in cutting off supplies from Genoa, and +in her he still remained until long after peace was declared. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Here's Rod," said my mother at last, struggling down on to the +ground again. "Roddy, darling, here's your father!" + +I saw the red face and the kindly, light-blue eyes looking out at +me. + +"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--" + +The blue arms flew out, and there were the skirt and the two feet +fixed in the door again. + +"Here are the folk coming, Anson," said my mother, blushing. "Won't +you get out and come in with us?" + +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. + +"Oh, Anson, Anson!" she cried. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 Ca Ira 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." + +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. + +"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." + +"And leave me without a child as well as without a husband!" cried +my mother. + +"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?" + +"Yes, father," said I, with some confidence. + +"Then how many sail of the line were at the Battle of Camperdown?" + +He shook his head gravely when he found that I could not answer him. + +"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 Ca Ira. Which were the ships that laid her aboard?" + +Again I had to confess that he had beaten me. + +"Well, your dad can teach you something in history yet," he cried, +looking in triumph at my mother. "Have you learned geography?" + +"Yes, father," said I, though with less confidence than before. + +"Well, how far is it from Port Mahon to Algeciras?" + +I could only shake my head. + +"If Ushant lay three leagues upon your starboard quarter, what would +be your nearest English port?" + +Again I had to give it up. + +"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." + +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. + +"You never asked me about that, Mary," said he. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Two hundred and eighty pounds," I answered. + +"Why, Anson, it is a fortune!" cried my mother, clapping her hands. + +"Try you again, Roddy!" said he, shaking his pipe at me. "There was +the Xebec 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?" + +"A hundred pounds." + +"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 La Sabina 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. + +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. + +"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?" + +I tried to explain that addition was the same upon sea or land, but +that history and geography were not. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"Whom think you that it is from, Anson?" she asked. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"Ay, and what does he want?" asked he, in no very amiable voice. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Thank God that you never had to stoop to it, Mary. I want none of +his help." + +"But we must think of Rodney." + +"Rodney has enough for his sea-chest and kit. He needs no more." + +"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." + +"Let us hear what he says, then," said my father; and this was the +letter which she read to him - + + +14, Jermyn Street, St. James's, +"April 15th, 1803. + +"MY DEAR SISTER MARY, + +"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 des plus charmantes 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 (Mon dieu, quel +nom!), 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. + +"I am ever, my dear sister Mary, +"Your brother, +"CHARLES TREGELLIS." + + +"What do you think of that?" cried my mother in triumph when she had +finished. + +"I think it is the letter of a fop," said my father, bluntly. + +"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!" + +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. + + + +CHAPTER V--BUCK TREGELLIS + + + +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. + +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- +marees 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? + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"The Army or the Navy is the place for you, Jim," said I. + +"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." + +"An officer gets his orders from those above him." + +"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." + +"I know that you are as proud as Lucifer," said I. + +"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." + +"Where is that, Jim?" + +"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." + +"How?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"My dear Mary," it ran, "I have stopped at the inn, because I am +somewhat ravage 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. +Toujours a toi.--Charles." + +"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." + +A smile flickered over the dark face of the servant, but his +features reset themselves instantly into their usual mask of +respectful observance. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +The man went off noiselessly and swiftly, but was back in a few +minutes with a flat brown basket. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"How old are you, nephew?" he asked. + +"Seventeen, sir." + +"You look older. You look eighteen, at the least. I find him very +passable, Mary--very passable, indeed. He has not the bel air, the +tournure--in our uncouth English we have no word for it. But he is +as healthy as a May-hedge in bloom." + +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. + +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. + +"Shall I convey it to your bedchamber, Sir Charles?" he asked. + +"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 batterie de toilette 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." + +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. + +"You number yourself in an illustrious company by upping your finger +and thumb into it," said he. + +"Indeed, sir!" said my father, shortly. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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.' + +"A bishop!" cried my father. "You draw your line very high, sir." + +"Yes, sir," said my uncle; "I wish no better epitaph upon my +tombstone." + +My mother had in the meanwhile descended, and we all drew up to the +table. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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 +Times or the Morning Chronicle." + +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. + +"As to the King," said he, "of course, I am l'ami de famille there; +and even with you I can scarce speak freely, as my relations are +confidential." + +"God bless him and keep him from ill!" cried my father. + +"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." + +"And the Prince?" asked my mother. "Is he well-favoured?" + +"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." + +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. + +"I suppose," said he, "that this is your first visit to Friar's +Oak?" + +My uncle's face turned suddenly very grave and stern. + +"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." + +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. + +"Was it at the inn you stayed?" he asked. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +My father nodded. + +"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, les indescretions d'une jeunesse doree, I could have +sworn that he was as good a man as I have ever known." + +"How came he, then, to such a crime?" asked my father. + +My uncle shook his head. + +"Many a time have I asked myself that question, and it comes home to +me more to-night than ever." + +All the jauntiness had gone out of his manner, and he had turned +suddenly into a sad and serious man. + +"Was it certain that he did it, Charles?" asked my mother. + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +"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?" + +"Nay, I have heard nothing of it," my father answered. + +"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. + +"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. + +"Next morning I was awakened by finding him at my bedside. + +"'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.' + +"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. + +"'Neither I nor my brother will touch it,' said he. 'There it lies, +and you may do what you like about it.' + +"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." + +My father was sitting with staring eyes, and his forgotten pipe +reeking in his hand. + +"Pray let us hear the end of it, sir," he cried. + +"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--" + +My uncle had turned quite pale with the vividness of the memory, and +he passed his hand over his eyes. + +"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?" + +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. + +"And what said Lord Avon?" cried my father. + +"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." + +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. + +"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--" + +"It still bears the stain," said I. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"There is truth in that," said be, thoughtfully. "You saw no +features, you say?" + +"It was too dark." + +"But only a figure?" + +"The dark outline of one." + +"And it retreated up the stairs?" + +"Yes." + +"And vanished into the wall?" + +"Yes." + +"What part of the wall?" cried a voice from behind us. + +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. + +"What the deuce is the meaning of this, sir?" cried my uncle. + +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. + +"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." + +"I never knew you forget yourself before," said my uncle. + +"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. + +"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 triste, sister Mary, and now we shall return, +if you please, to the dresses of the Countess Lieven, and the gossip +of St. James." + + + +CHAPTER VI--ON THE THRESHOLD + + + +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. + +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. + +"You won't forget us, Roddy? You won't forget us?" + +"Why, mother, what is it?" + +"Your uncle, Roddy--he is going to take you away from us." + +"When, mother?" + +"To-morrow." + +God forgive me, how my heart bounded for joy, when hers, which was +within touch of it, was breaking with sorrow! + +"Oh, mother!" I cried. "To London?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"I'll not go if it is to grieve you," I cried. + +"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." + +"I promise you, mother." + +"And you will be careful of wine, Roddy? You are young and unused +to it." + +"Yes, mother." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Well, nephew," he cried, "what do you think of the prospect of +coming to town with me?" + +"I thank you, sir, for the kind interest which you take in me," said +I. + +"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." + +"You'll find him a chip of good wood, sir," said my father. + +"We must make him a polished chip before we have done with him. +Your aim, my dear nephew, must always be to be in bon ton. 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." + +"I fear, Charles, that Roddy's wardrobe is country-made," said my +mother. + +"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." + +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. + +"The clothes are very well for Friar's Oak, sister Mary," said he. +"And yet you can understand that they might seem rococo in the Mall. +If you leave him in my hands I shall see to the matter." + +"On how much, sir," asked my father, "can a young man dress in +town?" + +"With prudence and reasonable care, a young man of fashion can dress +upon eight hundred a year," my uncle answered. + +I saw my poor father's face grow longer. + +"I fear, sir, that Roddy must keep his country clothes," said he. +"Even with my prize-money--" + +"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. + +My parents tried to thank him, but he cut them short. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Yes, the Bristol yellowman has been the winning colour of late. +How d'ye do, Mrs. Harrison? I don't suppose you remember me?" + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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--" + +"Come, wifie," said Harrison, patting her on the shoulder. "I've +been cut up in my time, but never as bad as that." + +"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." + +"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." + +"You'll keep your hat on your head like an honest, God-fearing man, +John," said his wife, turning back into the house. + +"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." + +"Well, it's no use, sir," said Harrison, "but I'd be glad to hear +about it all the same." + +"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." + +Harrison shook his head. "Never heard of him, sir." + +"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." + +"Sparrin' ain't fightin'," said the smith + +"I am told that he had the best of it in a by-battle with Noah +James, of Cheshire." + +"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." + +"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. + +"'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." + +"It won't do, Sir Charles," said the smith, shaking his head. +"There's nothing would please me better, but you heard for +yourself." + +"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. + +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. + +"That's my nephew, Sir Charles." + +"Is he living with you?" + +"His parents are dead." + +"Has he ever been in London?" + +"No, Sir Charles. He's been with me here since he was as high as +that hammer." + +My uncle turned to Boy Jim. + +"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?" + +Boy Jim's dark eyes sparkled with pleasure. + +"I should be glad to come, sir." + +"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." + +"Tut, Harrison, let the lad come!" cried my uncle. + +"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." + +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. + +"Let go her head!" cried he to the ostler, and with a snap, a crack, +and a jingle, away we went upon our journey. + +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. + +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? + + + +CHAPTER VII--THE HOPE OF ENGLAND + + + +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. + +"You sing, don't you, nephew?" he asked, suddenly. + +"Yes, sir, a little." + +"A baritone, I should fancy?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"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 +foenum in cornu,' which gives a flavour to one's conversation like +the touch of garlic in a salad. It is not bon ton to be learned, +but it is a graceful thing to indicate that you have forgotten a +good deal. Can you write verse?" + +"I fear not, sir." + +"A small book of rhymes may be had for half a crown. Vers de +Societe 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?" + +It made me laugh, the easy way in which he asked the question, as if +it were a most natural thing to possess. + +"You have a pleasant, catching laugh, at all events," said he. "But +an eccentricity is very bon ton 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 Sevres 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?" + +My fears told me that it might be my own very great discomfiture, +but I did not say so. + +"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?" + +I confessed that I had not. + +"You should begin now in your youth. I will myself teach you the +coup d'archet. 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." + +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. + +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. + +"Ambrose," he cried, "you may take Fidelio." + +But there came no answer. The seat behind was unoccupied. Ambrose +was gone. + +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? + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Halloa, Charlie! Good drive down?" he cried. + +My uncle bowed and smiled to the lady. + +"Broke it at Friar's Oak," said he. "I've my light curricle and two +new mares--half thorough-bred, half Cleveland bay." + +"What d'you think of my team of blacks?" asked the other. + +"Yes, Sir Charles, what d'you think of them? Ain't they damnation +smart?" cried the little woman. + +"Plenty of power. Good horses for the Sussex clay. Too thick about +the fetlocks for me. I like to travel." + +"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." + +"By George, yes, Letty is right!" cried the man. "D'you start to- +morrow?" + +"Yes, Jack." + +"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?" + +"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. + +"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." + +"It was dreadful to hear her," said I. + +"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." + +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. + +"I have de goot news, Sir Charles," said he, sinking his voice as +one who speaks of weighty measures. "Es ist vollendet--dat is, I +have it at last thoroughly done." + +"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." + +"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 vol-au-vent dat is +worth one hundred tousand pound. Ten per cent., and double to be +repaid when de Royal pappa die. Alles ist fertig. Goldshmidt of de +Hague have took it up, and de Dutch public has subscribe de money." + +"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 +filet saute aux champignons. He manages his master's money +affairs." + +"The cook!" I exclaimed, in bewilderment. + +"You look surprised, nephew." + +"I should have thought that some respectable banking firm--" + +My uncle inclined his lips to my ear. + +"No respectable house would touch them," he whispered. "Ah, +Mellish, is the Prince within?" + +"In the private saloon, Sir Charles," said the gentleman addressed. + +"Any one with him?" + +"Sheridan and Francis. He said he expected you." + +"Then we shall go through." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"I wouldn't have intruded, your Royal Highness, but I must have the +money--or even a thousand on account would do." + +"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!" + +"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." + +"That's the very place for a furniture man," said the man with the +red nose. + +"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." + +"I think, sir, that the Commons would respond now if the matter were +fairly put before them by Charlie Fox or myself," said Sheridan. + +The Prince burst out against the Commons with an energy of hatred +that one would scarce expect from that chubby, good-humoured face. + +"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 HIS 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?" + +My uncle put his hand on my sleeve and led me forward. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Yes, sir," said I. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 Minerve--hey, Tregellis?" + +"No, sir," said my uncle. Sheridan and Francis exchanged glances +behind the Prince's back. + +"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." + +"Well, sir! Well, sir! And what then, sir?" cried Francis, who +appeared to be an irascible, rough-tongued man. + +"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?" + +"I was in London at the time," said Sheridan, gravely. + +"You can vouch for it, Francis!" + +"I can vouch to having heard your Highness tell the story." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"You killed your man--?" + +"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 +WAS 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--" + +"But the duel, Tregellis!" cried the Prince. + +"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 tracasserie, 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." + +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. + +"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 baton to +me than to any amateur in England. Halloa, it's Charlie Fox, by all +that's wonderful!" + +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. + +"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." + +"Hang it, Charlie, you know that I sink or swim with my friends! A +Whig I started, and a Whig I shall remain." + +I thought that I could read upon Fox's dark face that he was by no +means so confident about the Prince's principles. + +"Pitt has been at you, sir, I understand?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"I can't get any exercise for the gout," said Fox. + +"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!" + +Fox smiled and shook his head. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 incog. +many a time, but never as the Prince of Wales." + +"We should be vastly honoured if you would come incog. to our +supper, sir." + +"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." + +"Sir, we shall be proud to see the Earl of Chester there," said my +uncle. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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?" + +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? + +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." + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER VIII--THE BRIGHTON ROAD + + + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Is our tandem out?" + +"It is at the door." + +"Come, then, and you shall have such a drive as you never had +before." + +He stood at the door pulling on his long brown driving-gauntlets and +giving his orders to the ostlers. + +"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 curacoa the same +as usual. Whoa, my darlings, you'll have your fill of it before you +reach Westminster Bridge." + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"It's a hundred that you don't see us before Westminster with a +quarter of an hour's start," said Sir John. + +"I'll take you another hundred that we pass you," answered my uncle. + +"Very good. Time's up. Good-bye!" He gave a tchk 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"If he has sprung his cattle up all these hills they'll be spent ere +they see Croydon," said he. + +"They have four to two," said I. + +"J'en suis bien sur. 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?" + +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. + +"Do you drive, nephew?" + +"Very little, sir." + +"There is no driving on the Brighton Road." + +"How is that, sir?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Just gone, sir." + +"Going hard?" + +"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." + +Z-z-z-z-ack! 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. + +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. + +"There's half the game won, nephew. Now we must pass them. Hark +forrard, my beauties! By George, if Kitty isn't foundered!" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Where on earth have they got to?" cried my uncle. "Can you make +them out on the road, nephew?" + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Dusty work!" said my uncle, quietly. + +"Fan 'em, Jack! Fan 'em!" shrieked the lady. + +He sprang up and lashed at his horses. + +"Look out, Tregellis!" he shouted. "There's a damnation spill +coming for somebody." + +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. + +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. + +"I lead!" shouted my uncle. "You must pull them, Lade!" + +"Not I!" he roared. + +"No, by George!" shrieked her ladyship. "Fan 'em, Jack; keep on +fanning 'em!" + +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. + +"Jam them, Jack!" she cried. "Jam the--before they can pass." + +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. + +"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 mauvaise +plaisanterie of that sort. He shall hear from me to-night." + +"It was the lady," said I. + +My uncle's brow cleared, and he began to laugh. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 les petites cheries 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." + + + +CHAPTER IX--WATIER'S + + + +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 des petites cadeaux," said he, "but it would be an +indiscretion for me to say more." + +We found a note from Ambrose waiting for us which increased rather +than explained the mystery of his disappearance. + +"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." + +"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. Je suis desole! 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 en retraite." + +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. + +"Why, George," cried my uncle, "I thought you were with your +regiment." + +"I've sent in my papers," drawled the other. + +"I thought it would come to that." + +"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." + +"How was that?" + +"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." + +My uncle laughed, and Brummell looked me up and down with his large, +intolerant eyes. + +"These will do very passably," said he. "Buff and blue are always +very gentlemanlike. But a sprigged waistcoat would have been +better." + +"I think not," said my uncle, warmly. + +"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." + +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. + +"You must not let anything I have said shake your faith in Sir +Charles's judgment, Mr. Stone," said Brummell, very earnestly. + +I assured him that I should not. + +"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?" + +"From Sussex, sir." + +"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?" + +"You don't hunt, George?" + +"When I do, it's a woman. But surely you don't go to hounds, +Charles?" + +"I was out with the Belvoir last winter." + +"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!" + +"I have been out of town." + +"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. + +"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 vis-a-vis, and I will show you something of the town." + +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. + +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. + +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 STRONG age, and you will be fortunate if in your +time the country produces five such names as Pitt, Fox, Scott, +Nelson, and Wellington. + +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. + +"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." + +"Why did he do that, sir?" I asked, in astonishment. + +My uncle shrugged his shoulders. + +"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 +pounds at whist. He is talking to young Lord Blandford who gave +1800 pounds for a Boccaccio the other day. Evening, Dudley!" + +"Evening, Tregellis!" An elderly, vacant-looking man had stopped +before us and was looking me up and down. + +"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?" + +"For a few days." + +"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. + +"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. 'L'homme laid' they called him in +Paris. The other one is Lord Foley--they call him No. 11, on +account of his thin legs." + +"There is Mr. Brummell, sir," said I. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"What did Lord Merton do?" + +"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." + +"I think not," answered my uncle. "It would be a mistake to +overwhelm one by attentions which are a pleasure to many." + +"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." + +"Bailiffs?" asked one of his companions. + +"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." + +"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." + +"The English are excellent at a flat-iron or a kitchen poker, but +anything more delicate is beyond them." + +"Our tailors are good," cried my uncle, "but our stuffs lack taste +and variety. The war has made us more rococo 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." + +"The Prince took it up." + +"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." + +"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." + +"I went early," said my uncle, "for I had heard that there were to +be some tolerable debutantes. 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." + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"Lost like the deuce," he snapped. + +"Dice?" + +"No, whist." + +"You couldn't get very hard hit over that." + +"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." + +My uncle was evidently struck by the haggard look upon the other's +face. + +"I hope it's not very bad," he said. + +"Bad enough. It won't bear talking about. By the way, Tregellis, +have you got your man for this fight yet?" + +"No." + +"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." + +"If you will name your day I shall produce my man, Sir Lothian," +said my uncle, coldly. + +"This day four weeks, if you like." + +"Very good. The 18th of May." + +"I hope to have changed my name by then!" + +"How is that?" asked my uncle, in surprise. + +"It is just possible that I may be Lord Avon." + +"What, you have had some news?" cried my uncle, and I noticed a +tremor in his voice. + +"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--" + +"I won't have you use that word, Sir Lothian," cried my uncle, +sharply. + +"You were there as I was. You know that he was a murderer." + +"I tell you that you shall not say so." + +Sir Lothian's fierce little grey eyes had to lower themselves before +the imperious anger which shone in my uncle's. + +"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." + +"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 HIS rights also are respected." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"Certainly." + +"I shall bring Crab Wilson with me, and finally arrange the +conditions of our little wager." + +"Very good, Sir Lothian: I shall hope to see you." They bowed, and +my uncle stood a little time looking after him as he made his way +amidst the crowd. + +"A good sportsman, nephew," said he. "A bold rider, the best +pistol-shot in England, but . . . a dangerous man!" + + + +CHAPTER X--THE MEN OF THE RING + + + +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. + +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 blase 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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Quite right, Bob! How are you all? How are you, Maddox? How are +you, Baldwin? Ah, Belcher, I am very glad to see you." + +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. + +"How are you, Berks?" + +"Pretty tidy. 'Ow are you?" + +"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. + +"See now, Jem, none o' that!" said Berks, sulkily. + +"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." + +"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-- +" + +"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." + +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. + +"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!" + +"What's the news of Friar's Oak?" I asked eagerly. + +"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." + +"And Boy Jim?" + +Champion Harrison's good-humoured face clouded over. + +"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." + +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. + +"Why, Jack Harrison!" he cried. "This is a resurrection. Where in +the world did you come from?" + +"Glad to see you, Jackson," said my companion. "You look as well +and as young as ever." + +"Thank you, yes. I resigned the belt when I could get no one to +fight me for it, and I took to teaching." + +"I'm doing smith's work down Sussex way." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +Harrison's eyes glistened at the idea, but he shook his head. + +"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?" + +"Yes, that's Jem. You've not seen him! He's a jewel." + +"So I've heard. Who's the youngster beside him? He looks a tidy +chap." + +"That's a new man from the West. Crab Wilson's his name." + +Harrison looked at him with interest. "I've heard of him," said he. +"They are getting a match on for him, ain't they?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Here's the Prince," said Jackson, as a hum and bustle rose from the +door. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"You must keep yourself in hand to-night, Berks," said Jackson. +"The Prince is here, and--" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Where's that, gov'nor?" + +"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." + +"No 'arm, gov'nor," grumbled Berks. "I'm sure I've always 'ad the +name of bein' a very genelman-like man." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"D'you draw their cork in return?" asked Harrison. + +"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." + +"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." + +"But if they don't?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Youth will be served," said a crooning voice from the other side of +the table. "Ay, masters, youth will be served." + +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. + +"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." + +"'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." + +"Youth will be served, masters," droned the old man, shaking his +head miserably. + +"Fill up 'is glass," said Warr. "'Ere, Tom, give old Buckhorse a +sup o' liptrap. Warm his 'eart for 'im." + +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. + +"There's Buckhorse!" they cried. "Buckhorse is comin' round again." + +"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." + +The company laughed again, and encouraged the old man by half- +derisive and half-affectionate cries. + +"Let 'em 'ave it, Buckhorse! Give it 'em straight! Tell us how the +millin' coves did it in your time." + +The old gladiator looked round him in great contempt. + +"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." + +"Give 'im a wipe over the mouth," said a hoarse voice. + +"Joe Berks," said Jackson, "I'd save the hangman the job of breaking +your neck if His Royal Highness wasn't in the room." + +"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--" + +"Sit down, Berks!" cried my uncle, with such a tone of command that +the fellow collapsed into his chair. + +"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?" + +"What was that, Buckhorse?" cried several voices. + +"'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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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?" + +"Yell, boys, that vas vat _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." + +"Well? Well?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +Jackson having replied with a readiness which many a public man +might have envied, my uncle rose once more. + +"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." + +Sir Lothian rose with a paper in his hand. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"I've seen him half a dozen times at the least," said Belcher. + +"It is precisely for that reason, Sir John, that I am laying odds of +two to one in his favour." + +"May I ask," said the Prince, "what the exact height and weight of +Wilson may be?" + +"Five foot eleven and thirteen-ten, your Royal Highness." + +"Long enough and heavy enough for anything on two legs," said +Jackson, and the professionals all murmured their assent. + +"Read the rules of the fight, Sir Lothian." + +"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?" + +My uncle bowed. + +"Have you anything to say, Wilson?" + +The young pugilist, who had a curious, lanky figure, and a craggy, +bony face, passed his fingers through his close-cropped hair. + +"If you please, zir," said he, with a slight west-country burr, "a +twenty-voot ring is too small for a thirteen-stone man." + +There was another murmur of professional agreement. + +"What would you have it, Wilson?" + +"Vour-an'-twenty, Sir Lothian." + +"Have you any objection, Sir Charles?" + +"Not the slightest." + +"Anything else, Wilson?" + +"If you please, zir, I'd like to know whom I'm vighting with." + +"I understand that you have not publicly nominated your man, Sir +Charles?" + +"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." + +"Certainly, if you choose to exercise it." + +"I do so intend. And I should be vastly pleased if Mr. Berkeley +Craven will consent to be stake-holder." + +That gentleman having willingly given his consent, the final +formalities which led up to these humble tournaments were concluded. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "there is a stranger waiting below who desires +a fight to a finish with the best men in the room." + + + +CHAPTER XI--THE FIGHT IN THE COACH-HOUSE + + + +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. + +"Is this genuine?" asked my uncle. + +"Yes, Sir Charles," answered the landlord; "the man is waiting +below." + +"It's a kid!" cried several of the fighting-men. "Some cove is a +gammonin' us." + +"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." + +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." + +"What weight is he, Bill?" asked Jem Belcher. + +"He's close on six foot, and I should put him well into the thirteen +stones when he's buffed." + +"Heavy metal!" cried Jackson. "Who takes him on?" + +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. + +"Well, you can't all fight him," remarked Jackson, when the babel +had died away. "It's for the chairman to choose." + +"Perhaps your Royal Highness has a preference," said my uncle. + +"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!" + +"I've seen your Royal Highness, and I have felt your Royal +Highness," said the courtly Jackson. + +"Perhaps Jem Belcher would give us an exhibition," said my uncle. + +Belcher smiled and shook his handsome head. + +"There's my brother Tom here has never been blooded in London yet, +sir. He might make a fairer match of it." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Wait a bit, Berks," cried several of the amateurs. "Where's it +going to be held?" + +"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." + +"They can't fight here with all this litter," said my uncle. "Where +shall it be?" + +"'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." + +"You are right, sir. We must have him up." + +"That's easy enough," said the landlord, "for here he comes through +the doorway." + +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. + +"Harrison!" I gasped. "It's Boy Jim!" + +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. + +"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." + +"Let him alone, Harrison," cried Jackson. "He's big enough to take +care of himself." + +"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." + +"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." + +Boy Jim stepped across and laid his hand upon the prize-fighter's +shoulder. + +"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." + +Harrison shrugged his huge shoulders. + +"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." + +"I trust, Harrison, that your opposition is withdrawn?" said my +uncle. + +"Can I not take his place?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Whom am I to fight?" asked Jim, looking round at the company, who +were now all upon their feet. + +"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?" + +Jim looked at him with disgust in every line of his face. + +"Surely you are not going to set me to fight a drunken man!" said +he. "Where is Jem Belcher?" + +"My name, young man." + +"I should be glad to try you, if I may." + +"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." + +"I'm much obliged to you." + +"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. + +"Have you any choice where the fight takes place?" asked my uncle. + +"I am in your hands, sir," said Jim. + +"Why not go round to the Five's Court?" suggested Sir John Lade. + +"Yes, let us go to the Five's Court." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"I'd stop it if I were you," he whispered. + +"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. + +"Wait on 'im yourself, then, and chuck up the sponge when things +begin to go wrong. You know Joe Berks's record?" + +"He's since my time." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"What space do you give them?" asked my uncle. + +"Twenty-four, as they are both big ones, sir." + +"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." + +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. + +"Here's our man," cried Belcher. "Come along, Berks, or we'll go to +fetch you." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Three to one." + +"Have you once in hundreds." + +"Very good, Craven! There they go! Berks! Berks! Bravo! Berks! +Bravo! I think, Craven, that I shall trouble you for that hundred." + +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. + +"Do you mind doubling our bet?" said Berkeley Craven, who was +craning his neck to get a glimpse of Jim. + +"Four to one on Berks! Four to one on Berks!" cried the ringsiders. + +"The odds have gone up, you see. Will you have four to one in +hundreds?" + +"Very good, Sir John." + +"You seem to fancy him more for having been knocked down." + +"He was pushed down, but he stopped every blow, and I liked the look +on his face as he got up again." + +"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." + +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. + +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 +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. + +"Where's your country hawbuck now?" cried Craven, triumphantly. +"Did ever you witness anything more masterly?" + +"He's no Johnny Raw, certainly," said Sir John, shaking his head. +"What odds are you giving on Berks, Lord Sole?" + +"Two to one." + +"I take you twice in hundreds." + +"Here's Sir John Lade hedging!" cried my uncle, smiling back at us +over his shoulder. + +"Time!" said Jackson, and the two men sprang forward to the mark +again. + +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. + +"Bellows to mend!" cried Jem Belcher. "Where's the four to one +now?" + +"Give us time to get the lid off our pepper-box," said Mendoza. "We +mean to make a night of it." + +"Looks like it," said Jack Harrison. "He's shut one of his eyes +already. Even money that my boy wins it!" + +"How much?" asked several voices. + +"Two pound four and threepence," cried Harrison, counting out all +his worldly wealth. + +"Time!" said Jackson once more. + +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!" + +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. + +"Get your left on his mark, boy," they shouted, "then go to his head +with the right." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +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. + +"In four rounds!" he kept repeating in a sort of an ecstasy. "Joe +Berks in four rounds! And it took Jem Belcher fourteen!" + +"Well, Roddy," cried Jim, holding out his hand, "I told you that I +would come to London and make my name known." + +"It was splendid, Jim!" + +"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." + +"It is you who are changed, Jim," said I; "I hardly knew you when +you came into the room." + +"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." + +"Miss Hinton has been my friend--the best friend I ever had." + +"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!" + +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. + +"Very good, Belcher," I heard my uncle say. + +"It would be a real pleasure to me to do it, sir," and the famous +prize-fighter, as the two walked towards us. + +"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. + +"That is what I want, Sir Charles--to have a chance of fighting my +way upwards." + +"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?" + +"I shall fight for the honour, and because I wish to be thought +worthy of being matched against Jem Belcher." + +Belcher laughed good-humouredly. + +"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." + +"I did not wish to fight him," said Jim, flushing. + +"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--" + +"Charge of me!" + +"Yes," said my uncle. "Belcher has consented to train you for the +coming battle if you are willing to enter." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"With all my heart," said Jim. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Good night, Roddy," said Jim. "You'll come down to Crawley and see +me at my training quarters, will you not?" + +And I heartily promised that I would. + +"You must be more careful, nephew," said my uncle, as we rattled +home in his model vis-a-vis. "En premiere jeunesse 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." + +"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." + +"Hum!" said my uncle, drily, and it was the last word that he +addressed to me that night. + + + +CHAPTER XII--THE COFFEE-ROOM OF FLADONG'S + + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"And I had rather wear it, father." + +"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?" + +"He is riding in the Mall." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Here's Cuddie Collingwood," whispered my father. + +"Halloa, Lieutenant Stone!" cried the famous admiral very cheerily. +"I have scarce caught a glimpse of you since you came aboard the +Excellent after St. Vincent. You had the luck to be at the Nile +also, I understand?" + +"I was third of the Theseus, under Millar, sir." + +"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!" + +"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. + +"Yes, yes, Troubridge, I can understand and sympathize with your +feelings." + +"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 Culloden 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." + +Collingwood shook the hand of the unfortunate captain. + +"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." + +The melancholy cleared away from the massive face of the big seaman, +and his deep laughter filled the room. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"I had thought, sir, that it was inland," said my father. + +Collingwood took a little black bag out of his pocket and shook it. + +"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?" + +"Bullets," said Troubridge. + +"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?" + +My father shook his head. + +"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?" + +He replaced his bag in his pocket, and then, passing his arm through +Troubridge's, they went through the door together. + +"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." + +"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 Hermione 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 Rose +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?" + +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 Goliath, 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 +Speedy, of fourteen small guns with fifty-four men, he had carried +by boarding the Spanish frigate Gamo with her crew of three hundred. +It was easy to see that he was a quick, irascible, high-blooded man, +for he was talking hotly about his grievances with a flush of anger +upon his freckled cheeks. + +"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 Chance, +and of the Martin, and of the Orestes? They foundered at sea, and +were never heard of more, and I say that the crews of them were +murdered men." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Frenchy has his fore and maintop-gallant masts about equal," said +my father. + +"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?" + +"Frenchy has white sails," cried several. + +"And ours are black and rotten. That's the difference. No wonder +they outsail us when the wind can blow through our canvas." + +"In the Speedy," 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." + +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. + +"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?" + +But Lord Cochrane was on the other side in this question. + +"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 Speedies back, and as many +volunteers as I care to take." + +"That is very well, my lord," said the old captain, with some +warmth; "when the Jacks hear that the Speedy 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." + +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. + +"What the cruiser gets the cruiser earns," cried a frigate captain. + +"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?" + +"I do not claim higher ability, sir." + +"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?" + +"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 Alexander 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 Minerva 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." + +"I cannot see their grievance, Captain Ball," said Cochrane. + +"When you are promoted to a two-decker, my lord, it will possibly +become clearer to you." + +"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." + +"Sir," said the angry old sailor, "such an officer is at least in no +danger of being mistaken for a privateersman." + +"I am surprised, Captain Bulkeley," Cochran retorted hotly, "that +you should venture to couple the names of privateersman and King's +officer." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 L'Orient 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. + +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. + +"What is it? What has happened?" cried a score of voices. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER XIII--LORD NELSON + + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Lieutenant Anson Stone?" she asked. + +"Yes, your ladyship," answered my father. + +"Ah," she cried, with an affected and exaggerated start, "you know +me, then?" + +"I have seen your ladyship at Naples." + +"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. + +"I heard of your ladyship's sad loss," said my father. + +"We died together," she cried. "What can my life be now save a +long-drawn living death?" + +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. + +"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?" + +"We heard the news last night." + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +"I had come to ask you, sir, if you could assist me to a ship." + +"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." + +"Who could doubt it who has heard of the Agamemnon?" 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. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"To-night, my lord." + +"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 Victory on Wednesday, and we sail at +once." + +"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. + +"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, OUR Queen, may be +straining her eyes for the topsails of Nelson's ships." + +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. + +"Well, young gentleman!" said he, sharply. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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 Victory. + +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. + +"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." + +"I trust, my lord, that I shall be with you when next we meet them," +said my father. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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?" + +"That it was a sign, sir, that it was a bad hour to cross your +hawse." + +"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?" + +"East-south-east," my father answered, readily. + +"Then Cornwallis is, doubtless, keeping well up to Brest, though, +for my own part, I had rather tempt them out into the open sea." + +"That is what every officer and man in the fleet would prefer, your +lordship," said my father. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +The footman had suddenly precipitated himself into the room, but +stood abashed before the fierce glare of the admiral's eye. + +"Your lordship told me to rush to you if it should come," he +explained, holding out a large blue envelope. + +"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. + + + +CHAPTER XIV--ON THE ROAD + + + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"That is all very well, Rodney," said he, looking hard into my eyes. +"But what does your uncle think about it?" + +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. + +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. + +"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 +tour-de-force 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." + +I had to assure him that the feat would be beyond me. + +"You are just a little difficile," 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 HAVE 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." + +"I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, sir," said I. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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--mais que +voulez-vous? 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?" + +"A person to see you, Sir Charles," said the new valet. + +"You know that I never see any one until my dressing is complete." + +"He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open the door." + +"Pushed it open! What d'you mean, Lorimer? Why didn't you put him +out?" + +A smile passed over the servant's face. At the same moment there +came a deep voice from the passage. + +"You show me in this instant, young man, d'ye 'ear? Let me see your +master, or it'll be the worse for you." + +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. + +"It's Warr, the prizefighter, sir," said I. + +"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." + +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. + +"It's important, Sir Charles, and between man and man," said he. + +"You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the matter?" + +The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with his +arms resting upon the back of it. + +"I've got information, Sir Charles," said he. + +"Well, what is it?" cried my uncle, impatiently. + +"Information of value." + +"Out with it, then!" + +"Information that's worth money," said Warr, and pursed up his lips. + +"I see. You want to be paid for what you know?" + +The prizefighter smiled an affirmative. + +"Well, I don't buy things on trust. You should know me better than +to try on such a game with me." + +"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." + +"You can do what you like," said my uncle. "If your news is of +service to me, I shall know how to treat you." + +"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." + +"What of that?" + +"Did you 'appen to know what the bettin' was yesterday?" + +"It was three to two on Wilson." + +"Right you are, gov'nor. Three to two was offered in my own bar- +parlour. D'you know what the bettin' is to-day?" + +"I have not been out yet." + +"Then I'll tell you. It's seven to one against your man." + +"What?" + +"Seven to one, gov'nor, no less." + +"You're talking nonsense, Warr! How could the betting change from +three to two to seven to one?" + +"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." + +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. + +"All the worse for the fools who give the odds," said he. "My man +is all right. You saw him yesterday, nephew?" + +"He was all right yesterday, sir." + +"If anything had gone wrong I should have heard." + +"But perhaps," said Warr, "it 'as not gone wrong with 'im YET." + +"What d'you mean?" + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Mr. Jackson 'as asked me to be one o' the beaters-out, sir." + +"Very good. I hope that we shall have a fair and good fight. Good +day to you, and thank you." + +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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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?" + +The prizefighter was hastening towards us as fast as his bulk would +allow. + +"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." + +"Very good, Warr," said my uncle, with his foot upon the step. + +"And the odds 'ave risen to ten to one." + +"Let go her head, William!" + +"Just one more word, gov'nor. You'll excuse the liberty, but if I +was you I'd take my pistols with me." + +"Thank you; I have them." + +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. + +"I have a good deal at stake, nephew," said he. + +"So have I, sir," I answered. + +"You!" he cried, in surprise. + +"My friend, sir." + +"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." + +"I fear that it will." + +"In that case we may be too late." + +"Pray God not, sir!" + +"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. + +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. + +"You know Berks, the bruiser?" asked my uncle. + +"Yes, Sir Charles." + +"Has he passed?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Jim and Belcher would surely be a match for the four of them," I +suggested. + +"If Belcher were with him I should have no fear. But you cannot +tell what diablerie 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." + +"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." + +"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. C'est dommage, 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." + +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. + +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. + + + +CHAPTER XV--FOUL PLAY + + + +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. + +"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." + +"How is he?" asked my uncle, quickly. + +"Never better, sir. Looks a picture, he does--and fit to fight for +a kingdom." + +My uncle gave a sigh of relief. + +"Where is he?" he asked. + +"He's gone to his room early, sir, seein' that he had some very +partic'lar business to-morrow mornin'," said the landlord, grinning. + +"Where is Belcher?" + +"Here he is, in the bar parlour." + +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. + +There was a shout of jovial greeting when my uncle's face was seen +in the doorway. + +"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. + +"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!" + +The Champion came out with us into the passage. + +"Where is your man, Belcher?" + +"He has gone to his room, sir. I believe that he should have a +clear twelve hours' sleep before fighting." + +"What sort of day has he had?" + +"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." + +"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." + +Belcher whistled between his teeth. + +"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." + +"Four villains, with Berks at their head, got the start of us by +several hours. It was Warr who told me." + +"What Bill Warr says is straight, and what Joe Berks does is +crooked. Who were the others, sir?" + +"Red Ike, Fighting Yussef, and Chris McCarthy." + +"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." + +"It is a pity to wake him." + +"He can hardly be asleep with all this racket in the house. This +way, sir, and down the passage!" + +We passed along the low-roofed, devious corridors of the old- +fashioned inn to the back of the house. + +"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?" + +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. + +"It seems that we are too late," said he. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"A woman!" I cried. + +"By Heaven, you're right, nephew," said my uncle. + +Belcher gave a hearty curse. + +"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!" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +The bright yellow glare from a stable lantern cut a ring suddenly +from the darkness, and an ostler came lounging out of the yard. + +"Who's that?" cried the landlord. + +"It's me, master! Bill Shields." + +"How long have you been there, Bill?" + +"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--" + +"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?" + +"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." + +I cast a quick glance at my uncle, and I saw that the shadow had +deepened upon his face. + +"What became of him?" he asked. + +"'E slouched away, sir, an' I saw the last of 'im." + +"You've seen no one else? You didn't, for example, see a woman and +a man pass down the lane together?" + +"No, sir." + +"Or hear anything unusual?" + +"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--" + +"What was it, then?" cried my uncle, impatiently. + +"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." + +"Where did it come from?" + +"From the side road, yonder." + +"Was it distant?" + +"No, sir; I should say it didn't come from more'n two hundred +yards." + +"A single cry?" + +"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." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER XVI--CRAWLEY DOWNS + + + +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. + +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. + +"Let me see! The fight was to be at ten, was it not?" he asked. + +"It was to be." + +"I dare say it will be, too. Never say die, Tregellis! Your man +has still three hours in which to come back." + +My uncle shook his head. + +"The villains have done their work too well for that, I fear," said +he. + +"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?" + +My uncle looked at me. + +"No," said I. "I know of none." + +"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." + +"I see no better explanation," said my uncle. + +"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." + +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. + +"I dare say you are right, Craven," said he. + +"I am sure that I am." + +"But it won't help us to win the fight." + +"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." + +"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." + +"I shall certainly do so. And I shall protest against paying the +wagers under such circumstances." + +Craven shrugged his shoulders. + +"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." + +We had sunk into a melancholy silence, when suddenly Belcher sprang +up from the table. + +"Hark!" he cried. "Listen to that!" + +"What is it?" we cried, all three. + +"The betting! Listen again!" + +Out of the babel of voices and roaring of wheels outside the window +a single sentence struck sharply on our ears. + +"Even money upon Sir Charles's nominee!" + +"Even money!" cried my uncle. "It was seven to one against me, +yesterday. What is the meaning of this?" + +"Even money either way," cried the voice again. + +"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." + +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. + +"What's the betting, boys?" asked Belcher, from the steps. + +"Even money, Jim," cried several voices. + +"It was long odds on Wilson when last I heard." + +"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." + +"Who started it?" + +"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." + +Belcher stooped down and turned over the man's inert head so as to +show his features. + +"He's a stranger to me, sir." + +"And to me," added my uncle. + +"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." + +"Well, what the devil can HE know about it?" said Craven. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 +effleure, 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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I am waiting here to give the office, Sir Charles," said he. "It's +down the Grinstead road, half a mile to the left." + +"Very good," said my uncle, reining his mares round into the cross- +road. + +"You haven't got your man there," remarked Mendoza, with something +of suspicion in his manner. + +"What the devil is that to you?" cried Belcher, furiously. + +"It's a good deal to all of us, for there are some funny stories +about." + +"You keep them to yourself, then, or you may wish you had never +heard them." + +"All right, Jem! Your breakfast don't seem to have agreed with you +this morning." + +"Have the others arrived?" asked my uncle, carelessly. + +"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." + +"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." + +"You take it like a man, Tregellis," said Craven. "We must keep a +bold face and brazen it out until the last moment." + +"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." + +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. + +"It's they. They are in time," said my uncle and Craven together. + +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. + +"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." + +My uncle bowed coldly, and made no answer. + +"I suppose that since we are all here we may begin at once," said +Sir Lothian, taking no notice of the other's manner. + +"We begin at ten o'clock. Not an instant before." + +"Very good, if you prefer it. By the way, Sir Charles, where is +your man?" + +"I would ask YOU that question, Sir Lothian," answered my uncle. +"Where is my man?" + +A look of astonishment passed over Sir Lothian's features, which, if +it were not real, was most admirably affected. + +"What do you mean by asking me such a question?" + +"Because I wish to know." + +"But how can I tell, and what business is it of mine?" + +"I have reason to believe that you have made it your business." + +"If you would kindly put the matter a little more clearly there +would be some possibility of my understanding you." + +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. + +"Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a grievance against me, you +will oblige me vastly by putting it into words." + +"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." + +An ugly sneer came over Sir Lothian's saturnine face. + +"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." + +"Sir," answered my uncle, "you are a liar, but how great a liar you +are nobody knows save yourself." + +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. + +"It does not become our position to quarrel like two yokels at a +fair," said he; "we shall go further into the matter afterwards." + +"I promise you that we shall," answered my uncle, grimly. + +"Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of your wager. Unless you +produce your nominee within five-and-twenty minutes, I claim the +match." + +"Eight-and-twenty minutes," said my uncle, looking at his watch. +"You may claim it then, but not an instant before." + +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. + +"I have been asked to be sole referee in this matter," said he. +"Does that meet with your wishes, Sir Charles?" + +"I should be vastly obliged to you, Craven, if you will undertake +the duties." + +"And Jackson has been suggested as timekeeper." + +"I could not wish a better one." + +"Very good. That is settled." + +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. + +"The betting keeps up for all that," said Belcher. "I've just been +to the ring-side, and it is still even." + +"There's a place for you at the outer ropes, Sir Charles," said +Craven. + +"There is no sign of my man yet. I won't come in until he arrives." + +"It is my duty to tell you that only ten minutes are left." + +"I make it five," cried Sir Lothian Hume. + +"That is a question which lies with the referee," said Craven, +firmly. "My watch makes it ten minutes, and ten it must be." + +"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. + +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. + +Sir Lothian Hume had been looking impatiently at his watch, and now +he shut it with a triumphant snap. + +"Time's up!" he cried. "The match is forfeit." + +"Time is not up," said Craven. + +"I have still five minutes." My uncle looked round with despairing +eyes. + +"Only three, Tregellis!" + +A deep angry murmur was rising from the crowd. + +"It's a cross! It's a cross! It's a fake!" was the cry. + +"Two minutes, Tregellis!" + +"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. + +"One more minute, Tregellis! I am very sorry, but it will be my +duty to declare it forfeit against you." + +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. + +"Saved, by the Lord!" screamed Belcher. + +"I rather fancy," said my uncle, calmly, "that this must be my man." + +"Too late!" cried Sir Lothian. + +"No," answered the referee. "It was still twenty seconds to the +hour. The fight will now proceed." + + + +CHAPTER XVII--THE RING-SIDE + + + +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. + +"There is no hurry now, I presume, Craven," said my uncle, as coolly +as if this sudden effect had been carefully devised by him. + +"Now that your man has his hat in the ring you can take as much time +as you like, Sir Charles." + +"Your friend has certainly cut it rather fine, nephew." + +"It is not Jim, sir," I whispered. "It is some one else." + +My uncle's eyebrows betrayed his astonishment. + +"Some one else!" he ejaculated. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"Well, sir, you heard I was coming," said the smith. + +"Indeed, I did not." + +"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." + +"We saw him dead drunk at the George." + +"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." + +"That's how the betting got turned," said my uncle. "He found +others to follow his lead, it appears." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"She's not a patron of sport, and that's a fact," said the smith. + +"Sport!" she cried, with shrill contempt and anger. "Tell me when +all is over." + +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. + +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. + +In the mean time Sir Lothian Hume had come bustling up to the +Honourable Berkeley Craven, who was still standing near our +curricle. + +"I beg to lodge a formal protest against these proceedings," said +he. + +"On what grounds, sir?" + +"Because the man produced is not the original nominee of Sir Charles +Tregellis." + +"I never named one, as you are well aware," said my uncle. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Forty-one next month, master." + +"Very good. I direct that the fight proceed." + +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 Custos rotulorum 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. + +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. + +"I presume that you have a warrant, sir?" said Craven. + +"Yes, sir, I have a warrant." + +"Then I have a legal right to inspect it." + +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. + +"This seems to be correct, sir," said he. + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"What do you think of your chances, Harrison?" I heard my uncle ask, +as the two mares picked their way over the broken ground. + +"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." + +"But your training?" + +"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." + +"He's rather long in the reach for you." + +"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." + +"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." + +"He WAS acting under force, Sir Charles." + +"You have seen him, then?" + +"No, master, I have not seen him." + +"You know where he is?" + +"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." + +The ominous figure galloped up once more alongside of our curricle, +but this time his mission was a more amiable one. + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"He was, you mean." + +"Well, I don't see no such difference as all that comes to, and I'm +putting ten guineas on my opinion." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Tut," answered the west-countryman. "It's only in Bristol and +Gloucester that you can get men to beat Bristol and Gloucester." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"I hope I see you well, Wilson," said he. + +"Pretty tidy, I thank you," answered the other. "We'll speak to +each other in a different vashion, I 'spects, afore we part." + +"But no ill-feeling," said the smith, and the two fighting men +grinned at each other as they took their own corners. + +"May I ask, Mr. Referee, whether these two men have been weighed?" +asked Sir Lothian Hume, standing up in the outer ring. + +"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." + +"He's a fifteen-stoner from the loins upwards," cried Dutch Sam, +from his corner. + +"We'll get some of it off him before we finish." + +"You'll get more off him than ever you bargained for," answered Jim +Belcher, and the crowd laughed at the rough chaff. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII--THE SMITH'S LAST BATTLE + + + +"Clear the outer ring!" cried Jackson, standing up beside the ropes +with a big silver watch in his hand. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"All ready!" from both corners. + +"Time!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"First knock-down for Harrison!" roared a thousand voices, for ten +times as many pounds would change hands upon the point. + +"I appeal to the referee!" cried Sir Lothian Hume. "It was a slip, +and not a knock-down." + +"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. + +"Have a care, Jack!" whispered the anxious second. "You got rather +more than you gave." + +"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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +"We've got him! He's beat! He's beat!" shouted the two Jew +seconds. "It's a hundred to a tizzy on Gloucester!" + +"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. + +"How is it with you, Harrison?" asked my uncle. + +"Hearty as a buck, sir. It's as right as the day." + +The cheery answer came with so merry a ring that the clouds cleared +from my uncle's face. + +"You should recommend your man to lead more, Tregellis," said Sir +John Lade. "He'll never win it unless he leads." + +"He knows more about the game than you or I do, Lade. I'll let him +take his own way." + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"This won't do, Tregellis," said General Fitzpatrick. "My money is +on the old one, but the other is the finer boxer." + +"My man is un peu passe, but he will come through all right," +answered my uncle. + +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. + +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 coup-de-grace. 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. + +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. + +"What think you now?" shouted all the neighbours of the west- +countryman, repeating his own refrain. + +"Why, Dutch Sam never put in a better rally," cried Sir John Lade. +"What's the betting now, Sir Lothian?" + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"He's got the roly-polies," cried Belcher. "You have it your own +way now!" + +"I'll vight for a week yet," gasped Wilson. + +"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!" + +"Take him away! Take him away!" echoed a hundred voices. + +"I won't be taken away! Who dares say so?" cried Wilson, who was +back, after another fall, upon his second's knee. + +"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." + +"You think he can't win it?" + +"He is hopelessly beat, sir." + +"You don't know him. He's a glutton of the first water." + +"A gamer man never pulled his shirt off; but the other is too strong +for him." + +"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. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +"The ring's broken!" shouted Sir Lothian Hume. "I appeal to the +referee! The fight is null and void." + +"You villain!" cried my uncle, hotly; "this is your doing." + +"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. + +"We will settle our accounts, never fear, though I degrade myself in +meeting such a blackleg. What is it, Craven?" + +"We shall have to declare a draw, Tregellis." + +"My man has the fight in hand." + +"I cannot help it. I cannot attend to my duties when every moment I +am cut over with a whip or a stick." + +Jackson suddenly made a wild dash into the crowd, but returned with +empty hands and a rueful face. + +"They've stolen my timekeeper's watch," he cried. "A little cove +snatched it out of my hand." + +My uncle clapped his hand to his fob. + +"Mine has gone also!" he cried. + +"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. + +"Do you consent to a draw, Sir Lothian Hume?" + +"I do." + +"And you, Sir Charles?" + +"Certainly not." + +"The ring is gone." + +"That is no fault of mine." + +"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." + +"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. + +"I hope I have not hurt you much." + +"I'm hard put to it to stand. How are you?" + +"My head's singin' like a kettle. It was the rain that helped me." + +"Yes, I thought I had you beat one time. I never wish a better +battle." + +"Nor me either. Good-bye." + +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. + + + +CHAPTER XIX--CLIFFE ROYAL + + + +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. + +"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." + +"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!" + +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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +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. + +"What make you of this, nephew?" he asked, handing it to me. + +This was what I read - + + +"SIR CHARLES TREGELLIS, + +"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 + +"JAMES HARRISON." + + +"Well, nephew?" asked my uncle. + +"Why, sir, I cannot tell what it may mean." + +"Who gave it to you, sirrah?" + +"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!" + +"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." + +"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." + +My uncle put the note into his pocket. + +"I don't move until I have seen you safely in the hands of the +surgeon, Harrison." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You remember me, Sir Charles Tregellis," said she, coming forward, +as we sprang down from the curricle. + +My uncle looked hard at her with a puzzled face. + +"I do not think that I have the privilege, madame. And yet--" + +"Polly Hinton, of the Haymarket. You surely cannot have forgotten +Polly Hinton." + +"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--" + +"I was privately married, and I retired from the stage. I want you +to forgive me for taking Jim away from you last night." + +"It was you, then?" + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Your uncle would have won it, but the roughs broke the ring." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +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. + +"Now, sirrah, your explanation!" cried Sir Lothian, standing with +his arms folded by the door. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Why did he not leave a message with Belcher?" + +"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." + +"Perhaps Sir Lothian Hume could tell you," said my uncle. + +Our enemy said nothing; but his little grey eyes slid round with a +most murderous glance in our direction. + +"After I had come here and seen my father I went down--" + +My uncle stopped him with a cry of astonishment. + +"What did you say, young man? You came here and you saw your +father--here at Cliffe Royal?" + +"Yes, sir." + +My uncle had turned very pale. + +"In God's name, then, tell us who your father is!" + +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. + +There was an instant of silence, broken by a deep oath from Sir +Lothian Hume - + +"Lord Avon, by God!" he cried. + +"Very much at your service, gentlemen," answered the strange figure +in the dressing-gown. + + + +CHAPTER XX--LORD AVON + + + +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. + +"Ned!" he cried. + +But the strange man who stood before him folded his arms over his +breast. + +"No Charles," said he. + +My uncle stopped and looked at him in amazement. + +"Surely, Ned, you have a greeting for me after all these years?" + +"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." + +"No, no, Ned." + +"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." + +"Then he is really your son!" cried my uncle, staring at Jim in +amazement. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"He is my lawful son." + +"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." + +"I have already explained, Sir Lothian, why I kept my marriage +secret." + +"You have explained, sir; but it is for others in another place to +say if that explanation is satisfactory." + +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. + +"You dare to doubt my word?" + +"I demand a proof." + +"My word is proof to those who know me." + +"Excuse me, Lord Avon; but I know you, and I see no reason why I +should accept your statement." + +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. + +"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. + +"He has gone to denounce me," said Lord Avon, a spasm of wounded +pride distorting his features. + +"Shall I bring him back?" cried Boy Jim. + +"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." + +"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." + +"What do you mean when you talk about the evidence of your own +eyes?" asked Lord Avon, looking hard at my uncle. + +"I saw you, Ned, upon that accursed night." + +"Saw me? Where?" + +"In the passage." + +"And doing what?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"I thank God that I hear you say so." + +"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." + +"Your word is enough for me, Ned; but the world will wish this other +question answered also." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"It has been pricked with a pin." + +"Precisely. What is the card?" + +My uncle turned it over. + +"It is the king of clubs." + +"Try the bottom corner of this one." + +"It is quite smooth." + +"And the card is?" + +"The three of spades." + +"And this one?" + +"It has been pricked. It is the ace of hearts." Lord Avon hurled +them down upon the floor. + +"There you have the whole accursed story!" he cried. "Need I go +further where every word is an agony?" + +"I see something, but not all. You must continue, Ned." + +The frail figure stiffened itself, as though he were visibly bracing +himself for an effort. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +My uncle drew a long sigh of relief. + +"Nothing could be clearer!" he murmured. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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--" + +"It was I, father," cried Boy Jim; "I and my friend, Rodney Stone." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"That I dare swear," said my uncle, heartily. + +"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." + +"My dear friend, I would not for the world--" + +"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." + +There was silence for some time, and then it was my uncle's voice +which broke it. + +"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." + +"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." + + + +CHAPTER XXI--THE VALET'S STORY + + + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"Ambrose, you are a black villain," said my uncle. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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--" + +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. + +"They will arrest me!" he cried. "I must submit to the degradation +of an arrest." + +"This way, Sir James; this way," said the harsh tones of Sir Lothian +Hume from without. + +"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. + +"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." + +"I am ready to answer the charge." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +The squire's weather-stained face flushed to a deeper red as he +turned upon the Londoner. + +"Are you the magistrate of a county, sir?" + +"I have not the honour, Sir James." + +"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." + +"You take too high a tone in this matter, Sir James. I am not +accustomed to be taken to task so sharply." + +"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." + +Sir Lothian bowed. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Yours is a true heart, James." + +"Tut, tut! it is the due process of the law. I trust, Sir Lothian +Hume, that you find nothing to object to in it?" + +Sir Lothian shrugged his shoulders, and looked blackly at the +magistrate. Then he turned to my uncle. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"Beg your pardon, Sir Charles," said he; "but it shocks me very much +to see your cravat." + +"You are right, Ambrose," my uncle answered. "Lorimer does his +best, but I have never been able to fill your place." + +"I should be proud to serve you, sir; but you must acknowledge that +Lord Avon has the prior claim. If he will release me--" + +"You may go, Ambrose; you may go!" cried Lord Avon. "You are an +excellent servant, but your presence has become painful to me." + +"Thank you, Ned," said my uncle. "But you must not leave me so +suddenly again, Ambrose." + +"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." + +"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." + + + +CHAPTER XXII--THE END + + + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 accable, 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!" + +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. + +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. + +"Happy to serve you in any way, Sir Charles," said he. "We've +arranged it for to-morrow at seven on Ditching Common." + +"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." + +"They are stopping across the road at the Friar's Oak inn, and if +you would wish it later--" + +"No, no; I shall make the effort. Ambrose, you will bring up the +batteris de toilette at five." + +"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." + +"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." + +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 +Ca Ira, 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. + +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 Cato, 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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 distingue, 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." + +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. + +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. + +Ten minutes may have passed, and then I heard the clatter of many +steps, and a knot of men came clustering through the door. + +"You need not employ violence," said a harsh, clear voice. "On +whose suit is it?" + +"Several suits, sir. They 'eld over in the 'opes that you'd pull +off the fight this mornin'. Total amounts is twelve thousand +pound." + +"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." + +"Couldn't do it, sir, really. It's more than our places as +sheriff's officers is worth." + +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. + +"I can't mount the carriage unless you free my hands," said he. + +"'Old 'ard, Bill, for 'e looks vicious. Let go o' one arm at a +time! Ah, would you then?" + +"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. + +"He's napped it this time! Get 'im by the wrists, Jim! Now, all +together!" + +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. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RODNEY STONE *** + +This file should be named rdst10.txt or rdst10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rdst11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rdst10a.txt + +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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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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