Richard Carvel — Complete

by Winston Churchill

  CHAPTER IX. UNDER FALSE COLOURS

  And now I come to a circumstance in my life I would rather pass overquickly. Had I steered the straight course of my impulse I need neverhave deceived that dear gentleman whom I loved and honoured above any inthis world, and with whom I had always lived and dealt openly. After mygrandfather was pronounced to be mending, I went back to Mr. Allen untilsuch time as we should be able to go to the country. Philip no longershared my studies, his hours having been changed from morning toafternoon. I thought nothing of this, being content with the rector'sexplanation that my uncle had a task for Philip in the morning, nowthat Mr. Carvel was better. And I was well content to be rid of Philip'scompany. But as the days passed I began to mark an absence stillstranger. I had my Horace and my Ovid still: but the two hours fromeleven to one, which he was wont to give up to history and what he waspleased to call instruction in loyalty, were filled with other matter.Not a word now of politics from Mr. Allen. Not even a comment from himconcerning the spirited doings of our Assembly, with which the townwas ringing. That body had met but a while before, primed to act on thecircular drawn up by Mr. Adams of Massachusetts. The Governor's messagehad not been so prompt as to forestall them, and I am occupied scarcethe time in the writing of this that it took our brave members to adoptthe petition to his Majesty and to pass resolutions of support to oursister colony of the North. This being done, and a most tart replypenned to his Excellency, they ended that sitting and passed inprocession to the Governor's mansion to deliver it, Mr. Speaker Lloydat their head, and a vast concourse of cheering people at their heels.Shutters were barred on the Tory houses we passed. And though Mr. Allenspied me in the crowd, he never mentioned the circumstance. More thanonce I essayed to draw from him an opinion of Mr. Adams's petition,which was deemed a work of great moderation and merit, and got nothingbut evasion from my tutor. That he had become suddenly an American inprinciple I could not believe. At length I made bold to ask him whyour discussions were now omitted. He looked up from the new play he wasreading on the study lounge, with a glance of dark meaning I could notfathom.

  "You are learning more than I can teach you in Gloucester Street, and atthe Stadt House," he said.

  In truth I was at a loss to understand his attitude until the day inJune my grandfather and I went to Carvel Hall.

  The old gentleman was weak still, so feeble that he had to be carriedto his barge in a chair, a vehicle he had ever held in scorn. But hewas cheerful, and his spirit remained the same as of old: but for thatspirit I believe he had never again risen from his bed in Marlboro'Street. My uncle and the rector were among those who walked by his sideto the dock, and would have gone to the Hall with him had he permittedthem. He was kind enough to say that my arm was sufficient to lean on.

  What peace there was sitting once again under the rustling trees on thelawn with the green river and the blue bay spread out before us, andScipio standing by with my grandfather's punch. Mr. Carvel would have merehearse again all that had passed in town and colony since his illness,which I did with as much moderation as I was able. And as we talked hereached out and took my hand, for I sat near him, and said:

  "Richard, I have heard tidings of you that gladden my heart, and theyhave done more than Dr. Leiden's physic for this old frame of mine. Iwell knew a Carvel could never go a wrong course, lad, and you least ofany."

  "Tidings, sir?" I said.

  "Ay, tidings," answered Mr. Carvel. Such a note of relief and gladnessthere was in the words as I had not heard for months from him, and avague fear came upon me.

  "Scipio," he said merrily, "a punch for Mr. Richard." And when the glasswas brought my grandfather added: "May it be ever thus!"

  I drained the toast, not falling into his humour or comprehending hisreference, but dreading that aught I might say would disturb him, heldmy peace. And yet my apprehension increased. He set down his glass andcontinued:

  "I had no hope of this yet, Richard, for you were ever slow to change.Your conversion does credit to Mr. Allen as well as to you. In short,sir, the rector gives me an excellent good account of your studies, andadds that the King hath gained another loyal servant, for which I thankGod."

  I have no words to write of my feelings then. My head swam and my handtrembled on my grandfather's, and I saw dimly the old gentleman's faceaglow with joy and pride, and knew not what to say or do. The answer Iframed, alas, remained unspoken. From his own lips I had heard howmuch the news had mended him, and for once I lacked the heart, nay, thecourage, to speak the truth. But Mr. Carvel took no heed of my silence,setting it down to another cause.

  "And so, my son," he said, "there is no need of sending you to Eton nextfall. I am not much longer for this earth, and can ill spare you: andMr. Allen kindly consents to prepare you for Oxford."

  "Mr. Allen consents to that, sir?" I gasped. I think, could I have laidhands on the rector then, I would have thrashed him, cloth and all,within an inch of his life.

  And as if to crown my misery Mr. Carvel rose, and bearing heavily on myshoulder led me to the stable where Harvey and one of the black groomsstood in livery to receive us. Harvey held by the bridle a blooded bayhunter, and her like could scarce be found in the colony. As she stoodarching her neck and pawing the ground, I all confusion and shame, mygrandfather said simply:

  "Richard, this is Firefly. I have got her for you from Mr. Randolph, ofVirginia, for you are now old enough to have a good mount of your own."

  All that night I lay awake, trying to sift some motive for Mr. Allen'sdeceit. For the life of me I could see no farther than a desire to keepme as his pupil, since he was well paid for his tuition. Still, the gamedid not seem worth the candle. However, he was safe in his lie. Shrewdrogue that he was, he well knew that I would not risk the attack adisappointment might bring my grandfather.

  What troubled me most of all was the fear that Grafton had reaped theadvantage of the opportunity the illness gave him, and by his insidiousarts had worked himself back into the good graces of his father. Youmust not draw from this, my dears, that I feared for the inheritance.Praised be God, I never thought of that! But I came by nature to hateand to fear my uncle, as I hated and feared the devil. I saw him with myfather's eyes, and with my mother's, and as my grandfather had seen himin the old days when he was strong. Instinct and reason alike made meloathe him. As the months passed, and letters in Grafton's scrollhand came from the Kent estate or from Annapolis, my misgivings wereconfirmed by odd remarks that dropped from Mr. Carvel's lips. At lengtharrived the revelation itself.

  "I fear, Richard," he had said querulously, "I fear that all these yearsI have done your uncle an injustice. Dear Elizabeth was wont to pleadfor him before she died, but I would never listen to her. I was heartyand strong then, and my heart was hard. And a remembrance of many thingswas fresh in my mind." He paused for breath, as was his habit now. AndI said nothing. "But Grafton has striven to wipe out the past. Sicknessteaches us that we must condone, and not condemn. He has lived areputable life, and made the most of the little start I gave him. Hehas supported his Majesty and my Lord in most trying times. And hisExcellency tells me that the coming governor, Eden, will surely rewardhim with a seat in the Council."

  I thought of Governor Sharpe's biting words to Grafton. The Governorknew my uncle well, and I was sure he had never sat at his Council.

  "A son is a son, Richard," continued Mr. Carvel. "You will one dayfind that out. Your uncle has atoned. He hath been faithful during myillness, despite my cold treatment. And he hath convinced me that yourwelfare is at his heart. I believe he is fond of you, my lad."

  No greater sign of breaking health did I need than this, that Mr. Carvelshould become blind to Grafton's hypocrisy; forget his attempts toprevent my father's marriage, and to throw doubt upon my mother's birth.The agony it gave me, coming as it did on top of the cruel deception,I shall not dwell upon. And the thought bursting within me remainedunspoken.

  I saw less of Dorothy then than I had in any summer of my life before.In spi
te of Mrs. Manners, the chrysalis had burst into the butterfly,and Wilmot House had never been so gay. It must be remembered thatthere were times when young ladies made their entrance into the world atsixteen, and for a beauty to be unmarried at twenty-two was rare indeed.When I went to Wilmot House to dine, the table would be always full, andMr. Marmaduke simpering at the head of it, his air of importance doubledby his reflected glory.

  "We see nothing of you, my lad," he would say; "you must not let theseyoung gallants get ahead of you. How does your grandfather? I must paymy compliments to-morrow."

  Of gallants there were enough, to be sure. Dr. Courtenay, of course,with a nosegay on his coat, striving to catch the beauty's eye. And Mr.Worthington and Mr. Dulany, and Mr. Fitzhugh and Mr. Paca, and Iknow not how many other young bachelors of birth and means. And WillFotheringay, who spent some of his time with me at the Hall. Silver andChina, with the Manners coat-of-arms, were laid out that had not seenthe light for many along day. And there were picnics, and sailingparties, and dances galore, some of which I attended, but heard of more.It seemed to me that my lady was tiring of the doctor's compliments, andhad transferred her fickle favour to young Mr. Fitzhugh, who was muchmore worthy, by the way. As for me, I had troubles enough then, and hadbecome used in some sort to being shelved.

  One night in July,--'twas the very day Mr. Carvel had spoken to me ofGrafton,--I had ridden over to Wilmot House to supper. I had littleheart for going, but good Mrs. Manners herself had made me promise, andI could: not break my word. I must have sat very silent and preoccupiedat the table, where all was wit and merriment. And more than once I sawthe laughter leave Dorothy's face, and caught her eyes upon; me withsuch a look as set my beast throbbing. They would not meet my own, butwould turn away instantly. I was heavy indeed that night, and didnot follow the company into the ballroom, but made my excuses to Mrs.Manners.

  The lawn lay bathed in moonlight; and as I picked, my way over it towardthe stables for Firefly, I paused to look back at the house aglow, withlight, the music of the fiddles and the sound of laughter floating outof the open windows. Even as I gaped a white figure was framed in thedoorway, paused a moment on the low stone step, and then came on untilit stood beside me.

  "Are you not well, Richard?"

  "Yes, I am well," I answered. I scarcely knew my own voice.

  "Is your grandfather worse?"

  "No, Dorothy; he seems better to-day."

  She stood seemingly irresolute, her eyes new lifted, now falling beforemine. Her slender arms bare, save for the little puff at the shoulders;her simple dress drawn a little above the waist, then falling straightto the white slipper. How real the ecstasy of that moment, and the painof it!

  "Why do you not coarse over, as you used to?" she asked, in a low tone.

  "I am very busy," I replied evasively; "Mr. Carvel cannot attend to hisaffairs." I longed to tell her the whole truth, but the words would notcome.

  "I hear you are managing the estate all alone," she said.

  "There is no one else to do it."

  "Richard," she cried, drawing closer; "you are in trouble. I--I haveseen it. You are so silent, and--and you seem to have become older. Tellme, is it your Uncle Grafton?"

  So astonished was I at the question, and because she had divined so,surely, that I did not answer.

  "Is it?" she asked again.

  "Yes," I said; "yes, in part."

  And then came voices calling from the house. They had missed her.

  "I am so sorry, Richard. I shall tell no one."

  She laid her hand ever so lightly upon mine and was gone. I stoodstaring after her until she disappeared in the door. All the way home Imarvelled, my thoughts tumultuous, my hopes rising and falling.

  But when next I saw her, I thought she had forgotten.

  We had little company at the Hall that year, on account of Mr. Carvel.And I had been busy indeed. I sought with all my might to mastera business for which I had but little taste, and my grandfathercomplimented me, before the season was done, upon my management. Iwas wont to ride that summer at four of a morning to canter besideMr. Starkie afield, and I came to know the yield of every patch to ahogshead and the pound price to a farthing. I grew to understand as wellas another the methods of curing the leaf. And the wheat pest appearingthat year, I had the good fortune to discover some of the clusters inthe sheaves, and ground our oyster-shells in time to save the crop. Manya long evening I spent on the wharves with old Stanwix, now toothlessand living on his pension, with my eye on the glow of his pipe and myear bent to his stories of the sea. It was his fancy that the gift ofprophecy had come to him with the years; and at times, when his lookwould wander to the black rigging in the twilight, he would speakstrangely enough.

  "Faith, Mr. Richard," he would say; "tho' your father was a soldierafore ye, ye were born to the deck of a ship-o'-war. Mark an old man'swords, sir."

  "Can you see the frigate, Stanwix?" I laughed once, when he had repeatedthis with more than common solemnity.

  His reply rose above the singing of the locusts.

  "Ay, sir, that I can. But she's no frigate, sir. Devil knows what sheis. She looks like a big merchantman to me, such as I've seed in theInjy trade, with a high poop in the old style. And her piercin's be notlike a frigate." He said this with a readiness to startle me, and littleenough superstition I had. A light was on his seared face, and his pipelay neglected on the boards. "Ay, sir, and there be a flag astern of hernever yet seed on earth, nor on the waters under the earth. The tide issettin' in, the tide is settin' in."

  These were words to set me thinking. And many a time they came back tome when the old man was laid away in the spot reserved for those whosailed the seas for Mr. Carvel.

  Every week I drew up a report for my grandfather, and thus I strove byshouldering labour and responsibility to ease my conscience of that loadwhich troubled it. For often, as we walked together through the yellowfields of an evening, it had been on my tongue to confess the lie Mr.Allen had led me into. But the sight of the old man, trembling andtremulous, aged by a single stroke, his childlike trust in my strengthand beliefs, and above all his faith in a political creed which he nighdeemed needful for the soul's salvation,--these things still held meback. Was it worth while now, I asked myself, to disturb the peace ofthat mind?

  Thus the summer wore on to early autumn. And one day I was standingbooted and spurred in the stables, Harvey putting the bridle uponFirefly, when my boy Hugo comes running in.

  "Marse Dick!" he cries, "Marse Satan he come in the pinnace, and youngMarse Satan and Missis Satan, and Marse Satan's pastor!"

  "What the devil do you mean, Hugo?"

  "Young ebony's right, sir," chuckled Harvey; "'tis the devil and hisfollowing."

  "Do you mean Mr. Grafton, fellow?" I demanded, the unwelcome truthcoming over me.

  "That he does," remarked Harvey, laconically. "You won't be wanting hernow, your honour?"

  "Hold my stirrup," I cried, for the news had put me in anger. "Hold mystirrup, sirrah!"

  I believe I took Firefly the best of thirty miles that afternoon andbrought her back in the half-light, my saddle discoloured with hersweat. I clanked into the hall like a captain of horse. The night wassharp with the first touch of autumn, and a huge backlog lay on theirons. Around it, in a comfortable half-circle sat our guests, Graftonand Mr. Allen and Philip smoking and drinking for a whet against supper,and Mrs. Grafton in my grandfather's chair. There was an easy air ofpossession about the party of them that they had never before assumed,and the sight made me rattle again, the big door behind me.

  "A surprise for you, my dear nephew," Grafton said gayly, "I'll, lay apuncheon you did, not, expect us."

  Mr. Carvel woke with a start at the sound of the door and saidquerulously, "Guests, my lord, and I have done my poor best to make themwelcome in your absence."

  The sense of change in him stung me. How different would his tone havebeen a year ago!

  He tattooed with his cane, which was the sign he
generally made when hewas ready for bed. Toward night his speech would hurt him. I assistedhim up, the stairs, my uncle taking his arm on the other side. Andtogether, with Diomedes help; we undressed him, Grafton talking in lowtomes the while: Since this was, an office I was wont to perform, mytemper was now overwhelming me. But I kept my month closed. At lasthe had had the simple meal Dr. Leiden allowed him, his candles weresnuffed, and my uncle and I made our way to the hall together: There myaunt and Mr. Allen were at picquet.

  "Supper is insupportably late," says she; with a yawn, and rings thehand-bell. "Scipio," she cries, "why are we not served?"

  I took a stride forward. But my uncle raised a restraining hand.

  "Caroline, remember that this is not our house," says he, reprovingly.

  There fell a deep silence; the log cracking; and just then the doorswung on its hinges, and Mr. Starkie entered with the great bunch ofkeys in his hand.

  "The buildings are all secure; Mr. Richard," he said.

  "Very good, Starkie," I replied. I turned to Scipio, standing by thelow-boy, his teeth, going like a castanet.

  "You may serve at the usual hour, Scipio," said I.

  Supper began stiff as a state banquet. My uncle was conciliatory, withthe manners of a Crichton. My aunt, not having come from generations ofsilver and self-control, flatly in a bad humour. Mr. Allen talkedfrom force of habit, being used to pay in such kind for his meals. Butpresently the madeira, warmed these two into a better spirit. I feltthat I had victory on my side, and was nothing loth to join them atwhist, Philip and I against the rector and my aunt, and won somethinglike two pounds apiece from them. Grafton made it a rule never to play.

  The next morning, when I returned from my inspection, I found the rectorand Philip had decamped with two of our choice horses, and that my uncleand aunt had commanded the barge, and gone to Mr. Lloyd's. I sent forScipio.

  "Fore de Lawd, Marse Richard," he wailed, "'twan't Scipio's fault. MarseGrafton is dry fambly!" This was Scipio's strongest argument. "I jes'can't refuse one of de fambly, Marse Dick; and old Marse he say he tooold now for quarrellin'."

  I saw that resistance was useless. There was nothing for it but to bideany time. And I busied myself with bills of cargo until I heard thehorses on the drive. Mr. Allen and Philip came swaggering in, flushedwith the exercise, and calling for punch, and I met them in the hall.

  "A word with you, Mr. Allen!" I called out.

  "A thousand, Mr. Richard, if you like," he said gayly, "as soon as thisthirst of mine be quenched."

  I waited while he drained two glasses, when he followed me into thelibrary, closing the door behind him.

  "Now, sir," I began, "though by a chance you are my mental and spiritualadviser, I intend speaking plain. For I know you to be one of thegreatest rogues in the colony."

  I watched him narrowly the while, for I had some notion he might run methrough. But I had misjudged him.

  "Speak plain, by all means," he replied; "but first let me ask for sometobacco."

  He filled the bowl of his pipe, and sat him down by the window. For themoment I was silent with sheer surprise.

  "You know I can't call you out," he went on, surrounding himself withclouds of smoke, "a lad of eighteen or so. And even if I could, Idoubt whether I should. I like you, Richard," said he. "You arestraight-spoken and commanding. In brief, sir, you are the kind of ladI should have been had not fate pushed me into a corner, and made mesquirm for life's luxuries. I hate squirming as much as another. This isprime tobacco, Richard."

  He had come near disarming me; I was on the edge of a dangerousadmiration for this man of the world, and for the life of me, I couldnot help liking him then. He had a fine presence, was undeniablyhandsome, and his riding clothes were of the latest London cut.

  "Are there not better methods for obtaining what you wish than those youpractise?" I asked curiously.

  "No doubt," he answered carelessly; "but these are well enough, andshorter. You were about to do me the honour of a communication?"

  This brought me to my senses. I had, however, lost much of my heat inthe interval.

  "I should like to know why you lied to Mr. Carvel about my convictions,Mr. Allen," I said. "I am not of the King's party now, and never shallbe. And you know this better than another."

  "Those are strong words, Richard, my lad," said he, bringing hiseyebrows together.

  "They are true words," I retorted. "Why did you lie, I say?"

  He said nothing for a while, but his breath came heavily.

  "I will pass it, I will pass it," he said at length, "but, by God! itis more than I have had to swallow in all my life before. Look at yourgrandfather, sir!" he cried; "behold him on the very brink of the grave,and ask me again why I lied to him! His hope of heaven is scarce lesssacred to him than his love of the King, and both are so tightly wrappedabout his heart that this knowledge of you would break it. Yes, breakhis heart, I say" (and he got to his legs), "and you would kill him forthe sake of a boyish fancy!"

  I knew he was acting, as well as though he had climbed upon the tableand said it. And yet he had struck the very note of my own fears, andhit upon the one reason why I had not confessed lung ago.

  "There is more you might have said, Mr. Allen," I remarked presently;"you have a cause for keeping me under your instruction, and that isbehind all."

  He gave me a strange look.

  "You are too acute by far," said he; "your imagination runs with you. Ihave said I like you, and I can teach you classics as well as another.Is it not enough to admit that the money I get for your instructionkeeps me in champagne?"

  "No, it is not enough," I said stoutly.

  "Then you must guess again, my lad," he answered with a laugh, and leftthe room with the easy grace that distinguished him.

  There was armed peace the rest of my uncle's visit. They departed on thethird day. My Aunt Caroline, when she was not at picquet with Mr. Allenor quarrelling with Mrs. Willis or with Grafton himself, yawned withoutcessation. She declared in one of her altercations with her lord andmaster that she would lose her wits were they to remain another day, athreat that did not seem to move Grafton greatly. Philip ever maintainedthe right to pitch it on the side of his own convenience, and he chosein this instance to come to the rescue of his dear mamma, and turnedthe scales in her favour. He was pleased to characterize the Hall asinsupportable, and vowed that his clothes would be out of fashionbefore they reached Rousby Hall, their next stopping-place. To do Philipjustice, he was more honest a rascal than his father, though I am of theopinion that he had not the brain for great craft. And he had drawn fromhis mother a love of baubles which kept his mind from scheming. He hadlittle to say to me, and I less to him.

  Grafton, as may be supposed, made me distinct advances before hisdeparture, perceiving the unwisdom of antagonizing me unnecessarily.He had the imprudence once to ask of me the facts and figures of theestate; and tho' 'twas skilfully done by contrasting his own crops inKent, you may be sure I was on my guard, and that he got nothing.

  I was near forgetting an incident of their visit which I afterwards hadgood cause to remember. The morning of my talk with Mr. Allen I went tothe stables to see how he had used Cynthia, and found old Harvey wipingher down, and rumbling the while like a crater.

  "What think you of the rector as a representative of heaven, Harvey?" Iasked.

  "Him a representative of heaven!" he snorted; "I've heard tell of rottenboroughs, and I'm thinking Mr. Allen will be standing for one. What behim and Mr. Grafton a-doing here, sir, plotting all kinds o' crime whilethe old gentleman's nigh on his back?"

  "Plotting?" I said, catching at the word.

  "Ay, plotting," repeated Harvey, casting his cloth away; "murder and allthe crimes in the calendar, I take it. I hear him and Mr. Grafton amongthe stalls this morning, and when they sees me they look like Knipe,here, caught with a fowl."

  "And what were they saying?" I demanded.

  "Saying! God only knows their wickedness. I got the words
'UpperMarlboro' and 'South River' and 'next voyage,' and that profligaterector wanted to know as to how 'Griggs was reliable.'"

  I thought no more of it at the time, believing it to be some of thesmall rascalities they were forever at. But that name of Griggs (why,the powers only know) stuck in my mind to turn up again.