CHAPTER XV. OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST
'Twas late when I awoke the next day with something of a dull ache inmy neck, and a prodigious stiffness, studying the pleatings of the bedcanopy over my head. And I know not how long I lay idly thus when Iperceived Mrs. Willis moving quietly about, and my grandfather sittingin the armchair by the window, looking into Freshwater Lane. As my eyesfell upon him my memory came surging back,--first of the duel, thenof its cause. And finally, like a leaden weight, the thought of thedeception I had practised upon him, of which he must have learned erethis. Nay, I was sure from the troubled look of his face that he knew ofit.
"Mr. Carvel," I said.
At the sound of my voice he got hastily from his chair and hurried to myside.
"Richard," he answered, taking my hand, "Richard!"
I opened my mouth to speak, to confess. But he prevented me, the tearsfilling the wrinkles around his eyes.
"Nay, lad, nay. We will not talk of it. I know all."
"Mr. Allen has been here--" I began.
"And be d--d to him! Be d--d to him for a wolf in sheep's clothing!"shouted my grandfather, his manner shifting so suddenly to anger thatI was taken back. "So help me God I will never set foot in St. Anne'swhile he is rector. Nor shall he come to this house!"
And he took three or four disorderly turns about the room.
"Ah!" he continued more quietly, with something of a sigh, "I might haveknown how stubborn your mind should be. That you was never one to blowfrom the north one day and from the south the next. I deny not thatthere be good men and able of your way of thinking: Colonel Washington,for one, whom I admire and honour; and our friend Captain Daniel. Theyhave been here to-day, Richard, and I promise you were good advocates."
Then I knew that I was forgiven. And I could have thrown myself at Mr.Carvel's feet for happiness.
"Has Colonel Washington spoken in my favour, sir?"
"That he has. He is upon some urgent business for the North, I believe,which he delayed for your sake. Both he and the captain were in mydressing-room before I was up, ahead of that scurrilous clergyman, whowas for pushing his way to my bed-curtains. Ay, the two of them werehere at nigh dawn this morning, and Mr. Allen close after them. And Iown that Captain Daniel can swear with such a consuming violence as toput any rogue out of countenance. 'Twas all Mr. Washington could do torestrain Clapsaddle from booting his Reverence over the balustrade anddown two runs of the stairs, the captain declaring he would do for everycur's son of the whelps. 'Diomedes,' says I, waking up, 'what's thisdamnable racket on the landing? Is Mr. Richard home?' For I had somenotion it was you, sir, after an over-night brawl. And I profess I wouldhave caned you soundly. The fellow answered that Captain Clapsaddle'shonour was killing Mr. Allen, and went out; and came back presently tosay that some tall gentleman had the captain by the neck, and that Mr.Allen was picking his way down the ice on the steps outside. With that Iwent in to them in my dressing-gown.
"'What's all this to-do, gentlemen?' said I.
"'I'd have finished that son of a dog,' says the captain, 'and ColonelWashington had let me.'
"'What, what!' said I. 'How now? What! Drive a clergyman from my housegentlemen?'
"'What's Richard been at now?'
"Mr. Washington asked me to dress, saying that they had something veryparticular to speak about; that they would stay to breakfast with me,tho' they were in haste to be gone to New York. I made my complimentsto the colonel and had them shown to the library fire, and hurrieddown after them. Then they told me of this affair last night, and theycleared you, sir. 'Faith,' cried I, 'and I would have fought, too.The lad was in the right of it, though I would have him a little lesshasty.' D--n me if I don't wish you had knocked that sea captain's teethinto his throat, and his brains with them. I like your spirit, sir. Apox on such men as he, who disgrace his Majesty's name and set bettermen against him."
"And they told you nothing else, sir?" I asked, with misgiving.
"That they did. Mr. Washington repeated the confession you made tothem, sir, in a manner that did you credit. He made me compliments onyou,--said that you were a man, sir, though a trifle hasty: in the whichI agreed. Yes, d--n me, a trifle hasty like your father. I rejoice thatyou did not kill his Lordship, my son."
The twilight was beginning; and the old gentleman going back to hischair was set amusing, gazing out across the bare trees and gablesfalling gray after the sunset.
What amazed me was that he did not seem to be shocked by the revelationnear as much as I had feared. So this matter had brought me happinesswhere I looked for nothing but sorrow.
"And the gentlemen are gone north, sir?" said I, after a while.
"Yes, Richard, these four hours. I commanded an early dinner for them,since the colonel was pleased to tarry long enough for a little politicsand to spin a glass. And I profess, was I to live neighbours with sucha man, I might come to his way of thinking, despite myself. Though I sayit that shouldn't, some of his Majesty's ministers are d--d rascals."
I laughed. As I live, I never hoped to hear such words from mygrandfather's lips.
"He did not seek to convince, like so many of your hotheadedknow-it-alls," said Mr. Carvel; "he leaves a man to convince himself. Hehas great parts, Richard, and few can stand before him." He paused. Andthen his smooth-shaven face became creased in a roguish smile whichI had often seen upon it. "What baggage is this I hear of that youquarrelled over at the assembly? Ah, Sir, I fear you are become but asad rake!" says he.
But by great good fortune Dr. Leiden was shown in at this instant. Andthe candles being lighted, he examined my neck, haranguing the while inhis vile English against the practice of duelling. He bade me keep mybed for two days, thereby giving me no great pleasure.
"As I hope to live," said Mr. Carvel when the doctor was gone, "onewould have thought his Excellency himself had been pinked instead of awhip of a lad, for the people who have been here. His Lordship and Dr.Courtenay came before the hunt, and young Mr. Fotheringay, and half ascore of others. Mr. Swain is but now left to go to Baltimore on somebarrister's business."
I was burning to learn what the rector had said to Patty, but it wasplain Mr. Carvel knew nothing of this part of the story. He had notmentioned Grafton among the callers. I wondered what course my unclewould now pursue, that his plans to alienate me from my grandfather hadfailed. And I began debating whether or not to lay the whole plot beforeMr. Carvel. Prudence bade me wait, since Grafton had not consorted withthe rector openly, at least--for more than a year. And yet I spoke.
"Mr. Carvel!"
He stirred in his chair.
"Yes, my son."
He had to repeat, and still I held my tongue. Even as I hesitated therecame a knock at the door, and Scipio entered, bearing candles.
"Massa Grafton, suh," he said.
My uncle was close at his heels. He was soberly dressed in dark brownsilk, and his face wore that expression of sorrow and concern heknew how to assume at will. After greeting his father with his usualceremony, he came to my bedside and asked gravely how I did.
"How now, Grafton!" cried Mr. Carvel; "this is no funeral. The lad hasonly a scratch, thank God!"
My uncle looked at me and forced a smile.
"Indeed I am rejoiced to find you are not worried over this matter,father," said he. "I am but just back from Kent to learn of it, andlooked to find you in bed."
"Why, no, sir, I am not worried. I fought a duel in my own day,--over alass, it was."
This time Grafton's smile was not forced.
"Over a lass, was it?" he asked, and added in a tone of relief, "and howdo you, nephew?"
Mr. Carvel saved me from replying.
"'Od's life!" he cried; "no, I did not say this was over a lass. I haveheard the whole matter; how Captain Collinson, who is a disgrace to theservice, brought shame upon his Majesty's supporters, and how Richardfelled the young lord instead. I'll be sworn, and I had been there, Imyself would have run the brute through."
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sp; My uncle did not ask for further particulars, but took a chair, and adish of tea from Scipio. His smug look told me plainer than words thathe thought my grandfather still ignorant of my Whig sentiments.
"I often wish that this deplorable practice of duelling might belegislated against," he remarked. "Was there no one at the Coffee Housewith character enough to stop the lads?"
Here was my chance.
"Mr. Allen was there," I said.
"A devil's plague upon him!" shouted my grandfather, beating the floorwith his stick. "And the lying hypocrite ever crosses my path, by gad'slife! I'll tear his gown from his back!"
I watched Grafton narrowly. Such as he never turn pale, but he set downhis tea so hastily as to spill the most of it on the dresser.
"Why, you astound me, my dear father!" he faltered; "Mr. Allen a lyinghypocrite? What can he have done?"
"Done!" cried my grandfather, sputtering and red as a cherry withindignation. "He is as rotten within as a pricked pear, I tell you, sir!For the sake of retaining the lad in his tuition he came to me and lied,sir, just after I had escaped death, and said that by his influenceRichard had become loyal, and set dependence upon Richard's fear ofthe shock 'twould give me if he confessed--Richard, who never told mea falsehood in his life! And instead of teaching him, he has gamed withthe lad at the rectory. I dare make oath he has treated your son to alike instruction. 'Slife, sir, and he had his deserts, he would hangfrom a gibbet at the Town Gate."
I raised up in bed to see the effect of this on my uncle. But howeverthe wind veered, Grafton could steer a course. He got up and beganpacing the room, and his agitation my grandfather took for indignationsuch as his own.
"The dog!" he cried fiercely. "The villain! Philip shall leave himto-morrow. And to think that it was I who moved you to put Richard tohim!"
His distress seemed so real that Mr. Carvel replied:
"No, Grafton, 'twas not your fault. You were deceived as much as I. Youhave put your own son to him. But if I live another twelve hours I shallwrite his Lordship to remove him. What! You shake your head, sir!"
"It will not do," said my uncle. "Lord Baltimore has had his reasons forsending such a scoundrel--he knew what he was, you may be sure, father.His Lordship, sir, is the most abandoned rake in London, and thatunmentionable crime of his but lately in the magazines--"
"Yes, yes," my grandfather interrupted; "I have seen it. But I willpublish him in Annapolis."
My uncle's answer startled me, so like was it to the argument ColonelWashington himself had used.
"What would you publish, sir? Mr. Allen will reply that what he didwas for the lad's good, and your own. He may swear that since Richardmentioned politics no more he had taken his conversion for granted."
My grandfather groaned, and did not speak, and I saw the futility ofattempting to bring Grafton to earth for a while yet.
My uncle had recovered his confidence. He had hoped, so he said, thatI had become a good loyalist: perchance as I grew older I would see thefolly of those who called themselves Patriots. But my grandfather criedout to him not to bother me then. And when at last he was gone, of myown volition I proposed to promise Mr. Carvel that, while he lived, Iwould take no active part in any troubles that might come. He stopped mewith some vehemence.
"I pray God there may be no troubles, lad," he answered; "but you needgive me no promise. I would rather see you in the Whig ranks than atrimmer, for the Carvels have ever been partisans."
I tried to express my gratitude. But he sighed and wished me good night,bidding me get some rest.
I had scarce finished my breakfast the next morning when I heard a loudrat-tat-tat upon the street door-surely the footman of some person ofconsequence. And Scipio was in the act of announcing the names when,greatly to his disgust, the visitors themselves rushed into my bedroomand curtailed the ceremony. They were none other than Dr. Courtenay andmy Lord Comyn himself. His Lordship had no sooner seen me than he ranto the bed, grasped both my hands and asked me how I did, declaring hewould not have gone to yesterday's hunt had he been permitted to visitme.
"Richard," cried the doctor, "your fame has sprung up like Jonah'sgourd. The Gazette is but just distributed. Here's for you! 'Twill setthe wags a-going, I'll warrant."
He drew the newspaper from his pocket and began to read, stopping nowand anon to laugh:
"Rumour hath it that a Young Gentleman of Quality of this Town, who ispossessed of more Valour than Discretion, and whose Skill at Fence andin the Field is beyond his Years, crossed Swords on Wednesday Nightwith a Young Nobleman from the Thunderer. The Cause of this DeplorableQuarrel, which had its Origin at the Ball, is purported to have beena Young Lady of Wit and Beauty. (& we doubt it not; for, alas! the Sexhath Much to answer for of this Kind.)
"The Gentlemen, with their Seconds, repaired after the Assembly to theCoffee House. 'Tis said upon Authority that H-s L-dsh-p owes his Life tothe Noble Spirit of our Young American, who cast down his Blade ratherthan sheathe it in his Adversary's Body, thereby himself receiving aGrievous, the' happily not Mortal, Wound. Our Young Gentleman is becomethe Hero of the Town, and the Subject of Prodigious Anxiety of all theLadies thereof."
"There's for you, my lad!" says he; "Mr. Green has done for you bothcleverly."
"Upon my soul," I cried, raising up in bed, "he should be put in thegatehouse for his impudence! My Lord,--"
"Don't 'My Lord' me," says Comyn; "plain 'Jack' will do."
There was no resisting such a man: and I said as much. And took his handand called him 'Jack,' the doctor posing before the mirror the while,stroking his rues. "Out upon you both," says he, "for a brace ofsentimental fools!"
"Richard," said Comyn, presently, with a roguish glance at the doctor,"there were some reason in our fighting had it been over a favour ofMiss Manners. Eh? Come, doctor," he cried, "you will break your necklooking for the reflection of wrinkles. Come, now, we must have littleFinery's letter. I give you my word Chartersea is as ugly as all threeheads of Cerberus, and as foul as a ship's barrel of grease. I tell youMiss Dorothy would sooner marry you."
"And she might do worse, my Lord," the doctor flung back, with a strut.
"Ay, and better. But I promise you Richard and I are not such fools asto think she will marry his Grace. We must have the little coxcomb'sletter."
"Well, have it you must, I suppose," returns the doctor. And with thathe draws it from his pocket, where he has it buttoned in. Then he took apinch of Holland and began.
The first two pages had to deal with Miss Dorothy's triumph, to whichher father made full justice. Mr. Manners world have the doctor (and allthe province) to know that peers of the realm, soldiers, and statesmenwere at her feet. Orders were as plentiful in his drawing-room as thecandles. And he had taken a house in Arlington Street, where HorryWalpole lived when not at Strawberry, and their entrance was crowdednight and day with the footmen and chairmen of the grand monde. LordComyn broke in more than once upon the reading, crying,--"Hear, hear!"and,--"My word, Mr. Manners has not perjured himself thus far. He hasnot done her justice by half." And I smiled at the thought that I hadaspired to such a beauty!
"'Entre noes, mon cher Courtenay,' Mr. Manners writes, 'entre noes,our Dorothy hath had many offers of great advantage since she hath beenhere. And but yesterday comes a chariot with a ducal coronet to ourdoor. His Grace of Chartersea, if you please, to request a privatetalk with me. And I rode with him straightway to his house in HanoverSquare.'"
"'Egad! And would gladly have ridden straightway to Newgate, in a ducalchariot!" cried his Lordship, in a fit of laughter.
"'I rode to Hanover Square,' the doctor continued, 'where we discussedthe matter over a bottle. His Grace's generosity was such that I couldnot but cry out at it, for he left me to name any settlement I pleased.He must have Dorothy at any price, said he. And I give you my honour,mon cher Courtenay, that I lost no time in getting back to ArlingtonStreet, and called Dorothy down to tell her.'"
"Now may I be flayed," said Comyn, "if e
ver there was such another ass!"
The doctor took more snuff and fell a-laughing.
"But hark to this," said he, "here's the cream of it all:
"You will scarce believe me when I say that the baggage was near besideherself with anger at what I had to tell her. 'Marry that misshapenduke!' cries she, 'I would quicker marry Doctor Johnson!' And truly, Ibegin to fear she hath formed an affection for some like, foul-linenedbeggar. That his Grace is misshapen I cannot deny; but I tried reasonupon her. 'Think of the coronet, my dear, and of the ancient name towhich it belongs.' She only stamps her foot and cries out:
"'Coronet fiddlesticks! And are you not content with the name you bear,sir?" 'Our name is good as any in the three kingdoms,' said I, withtruth. 'Then you would have me, for the sake of the coronet, joined toa wretch who is steeped in debauchery. Yes, debauchery, sir! You mightthen talk, forsooth, to the macaronies of Maryland, of your daughter theDuchess.'"
"There's spirit for you, my lad!" Comyn shouted; "I give you MissDorothy." And he drained a glass of punch Scipio had brought in, DoctorCourtenay and I joining him with a will.
"I pray you go on, sir," I said to the doctor.
"A pest on your impatience!" replied he; "I begin to think you are inlove with her yourself."
"To be sure he is," said Comyn; "he had lost my esteem and he were not."
The doctor gave me an odd look. I was red enough, indeed.
"'I could say naught, my dear Courtenay, to induce her to believe thathis Grace's indiscretions arose from the wildness of youth. And I passover the injustice she hath unwittingly done me, whose only efforts arefor her bettering. The end of it all was that I must needs post backto the duke, who was stamping with impatience up and down, and drinkingBurgundy. I am sure I meant him no offence, but told him in as manywords, that my daughter had refused him. And, will you believe me,sir? He took occasion to insult me (I cannot with propriety repeat hisspeech), and he flung a bottle after me as I passed out the door. Was henot far gone in wine at the time, I assure you I had called him out forit.'"
"And, gentlemen," said the doctor, when our merriment was somewhatspent, "I'll lay a pipe of the best Madeira, that our little fool neverknows the figure he has cut with his Grace."
Richard Carvel — Complete Page 16
