Revenge of an Englishman

by Kevin Patrick

  Despite the street lanterns that lit up many of the streets in the centre of London, I was still unable to track the route that the carriage took on its way to the ball. I know that it crossed over the Thames River and that we were heading northwards, but I quickly lost my bearings and had to give up on trying to keep track of our location. I kept glancing at the surroundings around us as we travelled from street to street, but I could only speculate on where I thought we were.

  "It was a marvellous idea to go to the ball. Dancing is the perfect way to end a pleasant evening," Mrs. Campbell said, attributing the idea of the ball solely on me.

  "Yes, I think so too," I simply replied.

  "An opportunity to dance away some of the great food that we've all just put in our bodies is just what is required," She added and I then nodded.

  "Now Phillip, I hope you will try to dance tonight, unlike at Mrs. Ramsey's ball. People in London talk so it will be beneficial for you, and us, if you talk more with the guests and ask one of the fine ladies to dance with you," Mrs. Campbell then went on to berate her son and instruct him on how he should behave.

  The carriage ride lasted twenty minutes and when it was finished and we were at our destination I felt relieved. Mrs. Campbell had talked for the majority of the journey, only stopping at brief intervals to take a breath or wait for one of us to agree with her opinion. I had agreed about the restaurant food and said it was delicious and how a ball was the perfect way to end the night's entertainment. That was all I had been able to do during the entire journey. As nice as Mrs. Campbell was, she was a force of nature. I could understand why she and my Aunt Tilney were good friends.

  The place where the carriage stopped and the driver let us out was not a house or residential building, it was a ballroom. The hosts, the Alexander's, had rented premises to hold the event. The premise was a detached building that was protected by a steel metal gate that ran the entire way around the front of the property. Some well-trimmed hedges, a lawn, two matching flowerbeds, and a narrow pathway were all that separated the building from the steel gates and the city street. It was an impressive looking building and when I stepped out of the carriage and studied my surroundings I found the building to be a gem in the heart of the city of London.

  "At last, I thought your carriage driver got lost," Mr. Campbell called over to us from inside the property grounds. He stood on the pathway near the gate entrance.

  There were four employees at the gate whose primary job appeared to be allowing and prohibiting people from entering the event. Mr. Campbell spoke to them upon seeing us and told them that we were the rest of the party of diners that were expected. The four employees said nothing except opened the gate and stood aside to grant us access. From the employees’ reactions, it was evident that Mr. Trevor had been successful in his mission of reaching the Alexander's and telling them of our arrival and our desire to enter the ball. I looked around to see if I could spot the rest of the dining party, but Mr. Campbell soon told me that they had opted to go inside the building and Mr. Campbell, alone, was left to wait for his family to arrive.

  Once inside the building, it was evident to me that the premise was used strictly for functions such as balls and parties. The decor was rich in taste and it dwarfed the interior design of the ballroom that I had attended in Bath. Velvet drapes hung on the walls, as well as tapestries and oil lanterns. Linens that were bleach white were placed on the tops of tables and the chairs also had a decorative black linen sheet tied around them. The building itself was three-stories high and it had its first floor transformed into one large room that housed tables and chairs around the sides of its square-shaped design with a large wooden floor in the middle of the room assigned to the dance floor. It was a common design in England ballrooms.

  It was decided by the Campbell's that the first point of business should be to speak with and thank the Alexander family for their kind hospitality despite the short notice of our arrival. I agreed with the sentiment and reluctantly went along with the plan, though in my head there was only one point of business that mattered and it had nothing to do with the hosts.

  "Of course it was no hassle. We are delighted to have you here at our party. We have heard so many things about you from so many people so we are delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Monsieur Levasseur," Mr. Alexander said, with Mrs. Alexander nodding along after I approached them and thanked them for allowing me to be their guest.

  "I find myself in a similar situation. I have heard many people speak their praises about you. They say that you are kind and wholly agreeable people, I am glad to say that they are correct. Thank you once again for the honour of being a guest at your beautiful ball," I responded to Mr. and Mrs. Alexander. They smiled at my words and there was something in their eyes that looked like genuine happiness.

  Mr. and Mrs. Alexander were both attractive and although they were now entering their later years in life, I guessed they were both around forty-five years of age, they still stood out as figures of perfection in the large ballroom. Their good looks and charisma were only outmatched by one other person in the entire room and that was their daughter, Christina. Upon being introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, and conversing with them for a short time, their daughter was then introduced to me by her parents. When I first set eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Alexander and spoke to them, their soft eyes and soothing voices made me immediately warm to them. Christina's presence, however, worked like magnetism on me. Her scent, the way the light shone on her shiny hair, her laugh and how she spoke all captivated me. At the dinner party in the restaurant, it was said that Mr. and Mrs. Alexander was hosting the ball with their daughter as the main benefactor in mind. The intention was that perhaps a suitable young man would present themselves at the ball and find Christina Alexander to be a respectable young maiden with the potential of being an agreeable wife. However, having taken in all of the delights of Christina Alexander, I concluded that kings would fight for the pleasure of having her hand in marriage and she would not find it difficult to find a husband with good standing and large pockets.

  Although I am ashamed to admit it, the image and presence of Christina Alexander distracted my mind for a whole hour from my objective of that evening. First, when she joined her parents' side and introduced herself to me, I had to converse with her about Paris and my fictional business in London. Then, once Mrs. Campbell uninvitingly joined the conversation I was asked and goaded to dance with Christina. Mrs. Campbell was adamant that at least one dance should be had between Christina and me, and I struggled to find an argument against it, not that a dance with a beautiful young maiden was such a horrible thing that I should turn my nose up at. For three successive dances, I was Christina Alexander's partner.

  "I have promised the next dance to someone else if you don't mind," Christina Alexander said to me upon the finishing of the third dance.

  "No, that is perfectly fine and to be expected. Thank you for sharing so some dances with me, they were enjoyable."

  "I share the same sentiment. You are a marvellous dancer, but then I suppose all Frenchmen start learning to dance and sing at such a young age."

  "If I didn't know any better I would say you are teasing me. My dancing is nothing impressive and I would have been lost if you had not danced so well alongside me. You guided me like a lighthouse directs a ship and without you, by my side, I would have looked foolish."

  "You are too kind," She said giggling.

  "As are you," She curtsied and I bowed, ending our dance and conversation.

  As Christina left my presence, leaving only the smell of her scented perfume behind, it did not take long for the void she created to be filled by Mrs. Campbell who came to follow up on the details of the conversation that took place between Miss Alexander and me. I spared her every detail and said that the conversation I had shared with Christina was uneventful, but as it was just spoken between two people its contents should remain as such. Mrs. Campbell wasn't pleased by being denied such in
formation, but she soon got over it and began pursuing another line of questioning.

  "Phillip and Christopher, what do you think about them? They haven't even plucked up the courage to talk to any of the young ladies here, never mind asking them to dance. It's scandalous, how will they ever find a woman to marry and look after them if they make no effort to do so," Mrs. Campbell said waving her arms and hands in the air in protest and frustration.

  While Mrs. Campbell was speaking, I surveyed the large ballroom to see if I could spot James Cromwell. I saw a few familiar faces, including the two women and man that I had eavesdropped on in the park a few days previous, but no James.

  "Where are you, you coward?" I thought to myself. I clenched my fists in anger.

  By the time midnight was approaching, I was sitting on a table in the corner of the ballroom watching the door intently for any new arrivals. I shared the table with Mr. Campbell and a few other gentlemen who didn't want to dance and also didn't want to be a burden on their wives who were busy gossiping and speculating about stuff elsewhere. Someone occasionally tried to make conversation at the table but each attempt was unsuccessful and before long silence returned to the table. On a couple of occasions, I saw Mr. Campbell's head bobble up and down as if he was almost falling asleep.

  A burst of energy filled the table in the form of Mr. Alexander who arrived at the table and sat down between Mr. Campbell and me. He asked what we thought of the night's festivities and we both answered that it was delightful. He then said that although the night was coming to a close he hoped that such a party could be held again soon. I nodded in agreement as was only polite.

  "So many ladies and gentlemen of high regard graced us tonight with their presence, the current company included. We feel very fortunate," he said.

  "Yes, everyone I have spoken to has seemed delightful. Although I had heard that a particular person was arriving that I much wanted to see, though he has not arrived," I honestly replied.

  "Who were you hoping to see?" Mr. Alexander quizzed me. This question got the attention of Mr. Campbell who intently watched on at the unfolding conversation.

  "Mr. James Cromwell, I had overheard that he was expected to attend the ball this evening."

  "Mr. Cromwell? I must be honest that was not a name I was expecting you to say. Why would you want to see him, Monsieur Levasseur? I did not know that the two of you were acquainted."

  "Of course I do not mind the question. I had hoped to meet him as I am somewhat of a fan of his, though I admit I have never met him. The story of him and his quest for buried treasure is quite famous and it has even reached as far as the shores of France. I was hoping to meet him and perhaps get a chance to speak to him about his journey."

  A smile went across the face of Mr. Alexander after I had given him my explanation. Then he sniggered and then he laughed. He raised his hand in the air and slapped it against the table as he continued laughing.

  "Monsieur Levasseur, before coming to this table I just left Mr. Cromwell outside as he was enjoying the fresh cool air of the night. If you would like to meet him then nothing would give me greater pleasure," Mr. Alexander said as he composed himself. “Although he tends to not talk about the origin of his wealth and the perilous journey he went on to attain it.”

  I was overwhelmed by a mixture of feelings after I listened to Mr. Alexander speak. First I was glad that I had not missed the opportunity to set eyes upon one of my attempted killers, but I was also a little anxious when hearing Mr. Alexander propose making the introduction between James Cromwell and myself. I had hoped to stalk James Cromwell like a lion stalks his prey and only make my first move to strike when I was ready to make him suffer. The prospect of meeting him head-on, in a crowded place, seemed rushed and put me in a position where I was not in control.

  Mr. Alexander repeated the idea and then said that he would love to introduce me to the man who I had before said I was hoping to meet. He stood up from the table and said that I should follow him immediately. He then extended the offer of an introduction to Mr. Campbell who at once graciously accepted. Mr. Campbell joined Mr. Alexander by standing up and together they both stared down at me from their higher positions. There were no actions or words that I could have used or said to get out of the introduction. Reluctantly, I stood up and was escorted outside to be introduced to James Cromwell.

  Mr. Campbell and I were led out to the front garden with the steel gate where we had entered the ball from. On the pathway between the two areas of lawn and flower beds that dominated most of the garden, there were several people gathered around and speaking to one another. They were smoking and enjoying the pleasantness of the cool evening air. When I walked outside, I too felt the relief of the wind upon my face. The ballroom was beautiful and tastefully decorated, but it was stuffy and overcrowded at the same time. The palms of my hands were sweaty and I felt some droplets of perspiration start to form on my forehead. I hoped that the wind would help cool me down.

  There were seven bodies on the pathway that I immediately saw. The area was poorly lit so I could not see their faces or any of their features. Only the figures of their silhouettes helped me determine the men from the women. Mr. Alexander did not share the problem of sight that I did and as we walked outside he continued walking like a man who knew exactly where his object was. In contrast to Mr. Alexander's confident stride, I walked much slower. I allowed Mr. Campbell to walk in front of me and I planned to use his body as a way of concealing myself if I was too nervous to confront James Cromwell.

  "Mr. Cromwell, I have brought some friends for you," Mr. Alexander said as he approached a shadowy figure on the dark path. The figure was alone and was smoking.

  "Friends of yours are friends of mine. Who do we have?" the shadowy figure responded. I recognised the voice at once. It belonged to James Cromwell, my rival.

  It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of night, but soon I could make out the features of the figures on the path. Most importantly, I could see the face of the man who had tried to kill me. The man who thought he had killed me. Throughout the years of my absence, I saw that his face and body had grown fat and his hairline had receded significantly. Apart from his weight gain, his appearance had aged at a regular pace as opposed to my faster deterioration from bad living conditions, malnourishment, and stress. His body had grown outwards from having an abundance of food and wealth, whereas mine was thin from knowing nothing but crumbs and absolute poverty for the best part of three years.

  "May I present to you Mr. Campbell from London and Monsieur Levasseur who is from Paris. They are new friends of mine and they are now friends of yours. I hope to see a lot more of them in the future," Mr. Alexander said to Mr. Cromwell.

  James Cromwell first shook Mr. Campbell's hand and said that he had, only moments ago, met Mr. Campbell's wife and that she was a fine woman. He said that his wife and Mrs. Campbell seemed to have a mutual friend in common so they were deep in conversation about that. Mr. Campbell responded by saying that his wife was always a very good talker and he apologised if she had spoken too much or overstayed her welcome in Mr. Cromwell's presence. James Cromwell replied that she had caused no offense and was a charming character, much to the delight of Mr. Campbell.

  Next, my attempted killer turned to me and extended his hand. He said that he had been to France many times and was most envious of me and the lifestyle that Parisian's live. I slowly extended my hand to shake his. It felt as if my body tried to resist shaking his hand and I felt a wave of disgust wash over me as I shook it. I looked at him in the eyes and he looked back at me. I could see through his disguise as a gentleman and I saw the evil inside of him. However, he could not see past my disguise of Monsieur Levasseur and he was unable to see that I was a ghost from his past.

  Mr. Alexander went on to speak and tell James Cromwell that I had been eager to meet him. He reiterated the story of how I had heard the story of James Cromwell and his friends' discovery of the buried treasure. Mr. A
lexander told him how I had been deeply interested in it. He also added that Mr. Campbell had an interest in the story as it was a very popular discovery and on the front pages of all the newspapers three years ago. James Cromwell nodded as if this curiosity was something that he had seen many times in many different people. Cromwell laughed and said that it truly was a sensational story and that many newspapers and writers had approached him asking if they could write a book about it. Cromwell then said to us that he was happy to answer any questions about how he and his friends uncovered the treasure.

  “The story of the treasure is not something that I normally like to discuss,” James Cromwell stated. “However, since this is Mr. Alexander’s party and since Monsieur Levasseur has come from France, then I feel like I should talk about it and answer all the questions you have about the treasure.”

  It was soon agreed that we should return inside the ballroom and James Cromwell was invited back to the table where Mr. Campbell and I had been sitting before Mr. Alexander had come and joined us. My attempted killer smiled and laughed and conversed with the three of us, all the while not knowing who I was. It took everything in my power not to attack him with my fists there and then. Even as we entered through the ballroom and navigated our way around the tables, each glance at an idle knife or fork on a table gave me an urge to turn primitive and stab this man. However, I was able to keep control of myself.

  The conversation about Cromwell's adventure and retrieval of the buried treasure soon resurfaced in the discussion. It was a painful subject to have to listen to. James Cromwell, under the instruction of Mr. Alexander, asked me what details I wanted to know about his famous expedition.