CHAPTER XLII.
Tout notre mal vient de ne pouvoir etre seuls; de la le jeu, le luxe,la dissipation, le vin, les femmes, l'ignorance, la medisance, l'envie,l'oubli de soi-meme et de Dieu.--La Bruyere.
The next day I resolved to call upon Tyrrell, seeing that he had not yetkept his promise of anticipating me, and being very desirous not to loseany opportunity of improving my acquaintance with him; accordingly, Isent my valet to make inquiries as to his abode. I found that he lodgedin the same hotel as myself; and having previously ascertained that hewas at home, I made up my features into their most winning expression,and was ushered by the head waiter into the gamester's apartment.
He was sitting by the fire in a listless, yet thoughtful attitude. Hismuscular and rather handsome person, was indued in a dressing-gown ofrich brocade, thrown on with a slovenly nonchalance. His stockingswere about his heels, his hair was dishevelled, and the light streamingthrough the half-drawn window-curtains, rested upon the grey flakes withwhich its darker luxuriance was interspersed, and the cross light inwhich he had the imprudence or misfortune to sit (odious cross light,which even I already begin carefully to avoid), fully developed thedeep wrinkles which years and dissipation had planted round his eyesand mouth. I was quite startled at the oldness and haggardness of hisappearance.
He rose gracefully enough when I was announced; and no sooner had thewaiter retired, than he came up to me, shook me warmly by the hand, andsaid, "Let me thank you now for the attention you formerly shewed me,when I was less able to express my acknowledgments. I shall be proud tocultivate your intimacy."
I answered him in the same strain, and in the course of conversation,made myself so entertaining, that he agreed to spend the remainderof the day with me. We ordered our horses at three, and our dinner atseven, and I left him till the former were ready, in order to allow himtime for his toilet.
During our ride we talked principally on general subjects, on thevarious differences of France and England, on horses, on wines, onwomen, on politics, on all things, except that which had created ouracquaintance. His remarks were those of a strong, ill-regulated mind,which had made experience supply the place of the reasoning faculties;there was a looseness in his sentiments, and a licentiousness in hisopinions, which startled even me (used as I had been to rakes of allschools); his philosophy was of that species which thinks that the bestmaxim of wisdom is--to despise. Of men he spoke with the bitterness ofhatred; of women, with the levity of contempt. France had taught him itsdebaucheries, but not the elegance which refines them: if his sentimentswere low, the language in which they were clothed was meaner still:and that which makes the morality of the upper classes, and which nocriminal is supposed to be hardy enough to reject; that religion whichhas no scoffers, that code which has no impugners, that honour amonggentlemen, which constitutes the moving principle of the society inwhich they live, he seemed to imagine, even in its most fundamentallaws, was an authority to which nothing but the inexperience of theyoung, and the credulity of the romantic, could accede.
Upon the whole, he seemed to me a "bold, bad man," with just enough ofintellect to teach him to be a villain, without that higher degree whichshews him that it is the worst course for his interest; and just enoughof daring to make him indifferent to the dangers of guilt, though it wasnot sufficient to make him conquer and control them. For the rest,he loved trotting better than cantering--piqued himself upon beingmanly--wore doe-skin gloves--drank port wine, par preference, andconsidered beef-steaks and oysters as the most delicate dish in thewhole carte. I think, now, reader, you have a tolerably good view of hischaracter.
After dinner, when we were discussing the second bottle, I thought itwould not be a bad opportunity to question him upon his acquaintancewith Glanville. His countenance fell directly I mentioned that name.However, he rallied himself. "Oh," said he, "you mean the soi-disantWarburton. I knew him some years back--he was a poor silly youth, halfmad, I believe, and particularly hostile to me, owing to some foolishdisagreement when he was quite a boy."
"What was the cause?" said I.
"Nothing--nothing of any consequence," answered Tyrrell; and then added,with an air of coxcombry, "I believe I was more fortunate than he, inan affaire du coeur. Poor Granville is a little romantic, you know. Butenough of this now: shall we go to the rooms?"
"With pleasure," said I; and to the rooms we went.
Pelham — Complete Page 42
