“However,” said I, “I can rearrange all that very easily. And now, my bucko, here is where your fortune meets mine. You are fitted by nature more to attend other people’s affairs than to take a strict interest in your own. All kinds of meddling and interference come easily to you. Well, then, here is a chance to exercise your gifts inoffensively, and yet in a way which may make two people happy for life. I will tell you now that I don’t even know where is the Earl’s town house. There is where your importance appears at once. You must show me the house. That is the first thing. After that we will arrange all the details about ladders and garden walls, and, mayhap, carrier doves. As for your reward, it will appear finally in the shape of a bowing recognition by people of fashion, which is what you most desire in the world, you funny little man.”
Again I had stunned him. For a time I could see his brain swimming in a perfect sea of bewilderment. But, as before, sense gradually came to him, and he again volleyed questions at me. But what stuck in his crop was the thought that Lady Mary could prefer me. He tried his best to believe it, but he would always end up by saying: “Well, if Lady Mary cares for you, the affair is not too difficult.” Or, “Well, if you are sure Lady Mary loves you—” I could have broken his head a thousand times.
“Bad luck to you, Doctor,” I cried. “Don’t you know such croaking would spoil the peace of any true lover? Is ever any worthy man able not to be anxious in such matters? ’Tis only foppery coxcombs who have great confidence, and they are usually misled, thank the Lord! Be quiet, now, and try to take everything for granted.”
Then the spirit of the adventure came upon him, and he was all for it, heels over head. As I told him, this sort of meddling was his proper vocation. He who as a recreation revelled in the mere shadows of the intrigues of people of quality was now really part of one, an actor in it, the repository of its deep secret. I had to curb his enthusiasm. He had such a sense of the importance of my news, and of his distinction in having heard it, that I think he wanted to tell the secret to the entire world.
As soon as the afternoon grew late I suggested a walk to that part of London in which was situated the Earl’s town house. I did not see why we should not be moving at once on the campaign. The Doctor assented, and we went forth to look for Paddy and Jem Bottles. We found them at an ale-house which was the resort of the chairmen, footmen, and coachmen of the grand people. The two rogues had evidently passed a pleasant afternoon. Jem Bottles was still making love to a very pretty girl, some part of whose easy affection or interest he had won; and Paddy, it seems, had had a rip-roaring fight with two lackeys, worsted them with despatch, and even pursued them some distance. To my stern interrogation in regard to the pretty girl, Jem Bottles stoutly rejoined that she was his second cousin whom he had not seen for many years. To this I made no reply, for it does no good to disturb the balance of a good liar. If at times he is led to tell the truth, he becomes very puzzling. In all the years Jem Bottles has been in my service I have never reprimanded him for lying. I would confuse matters to no purpose, inasmuch as I understand him perfectly.
“And how,” said I to Paddy, “did you come to engage in this disgraceful brawl of a Sunday?”
“Your honour,” answered Paddy, “there was two of these men with fat legs came here, and says one, looking hard at me, ‘Here’s a furriner,’ he says. ‘Furriner yourself, you fish-faced ditch-lurker,’ says I, and with that he takes up his fists and hits me a knock. There was a little shindy, and afterward they ran away bawling, and I was pursuing them, only I feared to lose my way in these strange parts.”
The walk to Lord Westport’s house was a long one. It seemed that he had built a great new mansion at a place outside of the old city gates, where other nobles and great brewers had built fine houses, surrounding them all with splendid gardens.
One must not suppose that I had any idea of taking the mansion by storm. My first idea was to dream a lover’s dream as I gazed upon the abode of my treasure. This, I believe, is a legitimate proceeding in all careers. Every lover worthy of the name is certain to pilgrimage, muffled in his cloak, to moon over the home of his adored one. Otherwise there can be no real attachment.
In the second place I wished to develop certain plans for gaining speech of Lady Mary. I will not deny that I purposed on a near day to scale the garden wall and hold speech of my sweetheart as she walked alone among the flowers. For my success I depended upon the absolute conventionality of the idea. In all history no lover has even been chased out of a garden by an under-gardener with a hoe.
When we arrived at the house I found that it was indeed a gorgeous mansion. It was surrounded on all sides by high brick walls, but through the elaborate tracery of one of the iron-work gates I saw Lady Mary’s home standing among sweeping green lawns.
We reconnoitred all sides, and at the back I found a lonely avenue lined with oaks. Here a small door pierced the wall for the use apparently of the gardeners or grooms. I resolved that here I would make my attack.
As we passed the iron gates on our way back to town, we saw window after window light up with a golden radiance. I wondered which part of that vast edifice hid the form of my Mary.
I had asked Doctor Chord to sup with me at the inn, and on the way thither he proved somewhat loquacious.
“I see in you, sir,” said he, “a certain instinct of true romance which is infrequently encountered in this humdrum commercial age. Allow me to express to you, sir, my warm admiration. I did not think that a gallant of this humdrum commercial age could prove such a free spirit. In this humdrum commercial age—”
“I am an Irishman,” said I, “and in Ireland we are always humdrum, but we are never commercial, for the reason that we have not the tools.”
“Aye,” said he, “you must be a great people. Strangely enough, you are the first Irishman I have ever seen, although I have seen many blackamoors. However, I am edified to find you a gentleman of great learning and experience. In this humdrum commercial age—”
“Let go,” said I. “I can do very well without your opinion as to my learning and experience. In regard to this being a humdrum commercial age you will find that all ages say the same thing of themselves. I am more interested in the winning of Lady Mary.”
“’Twas to that subject I was just about to turn the talk,” said the Doctor. “I need not express again to you the interest I feel; and if it is true, as you say, that Lady Mary really loves you—”
“May the devil fly away with you,” I cried in a great rage. “Are you never to have done? You are an old frog. I asked you to help me, and you do nothing but dispirit me with these doubts. I’ll not put up with it.”
“I am very sorry to displease you, sir,” answered my friend. “If you examine my intentions with a dispassionate eye, sir, I am convinced you will have found nothing in me which should properly cause these outbursts of disapprobation. When I say, ‘If Lady Mary really loves you,’ I am referring to the strange mishaps and misconstructions which attend human thought at all times, and when I say—”
“Let go again,” I cried. “When I misunderstand you, don’t enlighten me; for I find these explanations very hard to bear.”
To my surprise the little man answered with great spirit: “I am unable to gain any approval for my deep interest in your affairs, sir,” he cried. “Perchance, it would be better if I could affect a profound indifference. I am certainly at a loss for words when each sentence of mine is made the subject of wrathful objection.”
“You are right,” said I. “But you will understand how ten thousand emotions beset and haggle a lover, and I believe he always revenges himself upon his dearest friends. Forgive me!”
“With all my heart!” answered the little Doctor. “I am aware, sir, that at the present time you are in many ways like a highly-tightened fiddle, which any breeze frets into murmurings. Now, being absolutely certain of the devotion of your beloved, you naturally—”
“By the ten lame pipers of Ballydehob,” I shout
ed, “let go of that talk. I can’t be having it. I warn ye. ’Tis either a grave for me, or quiet for you, and I am thinking it is quiet for you.”
“Inasmuch,” said the Doctor, “as my most judicious speeches seem to inflame your passions, sir, I am of the opinion that a perfect silence on my part becomes almost necessary, and, to further this end, I would recommend that you refrain from making interrogations, or otherwise promulgating opportunities, when an expression of candid opinion seems expected and desired.”
“You’ve hit it,” said I. “We will have no more interrogations. However, I would much like to know how you became so intimate with Lord Westport’s family.”
Doctor Chord blushed with something of his earlier manner. “’Tis a matter which I did not expect to have leap at me out of the darkness in this fashion,” he said bashfully. “However, I am convinced of how well you know these people, and I will traffic no more with hollow pretence. As you know, I deal much in chemical knowledge, which I am able to spread to almost every branch of human use and need.”
“’Tis an ill work,” said I slowly. “I doubt if Father Donovan would care to hear you be speaking in this way. He always objected to scientific improvements as things which do harm to the Church.”
“In regard to the estimable friend you mention,” said the Doctor, “I unhesitatingly state my profound assurances of respect.”
“Quite so,” I answered. “He will be pleased to hear of it. And now we will return to the other matter.”
“I will obediently proceed,” said he. “Five years back the Countess of Westport was thrown from her carriage. Physicians rushed to her rescue. I too appeared, being for the time out for a walk. They wished to immediately bleed her, but I waved them aside and, recognizing me as a figure in the street world of science, they fell back abashed. I prescribed a small drink of hot rum. The lady took it. Almost immediately she recovered. She offered me a guinea. I refused curtly. She inquired here and there for my condition. Afterward she apologized to me for not offering me more than a guinea. Since that time we have been warm friends. She knows me as a great scientist who came to her assistance in time of trouble when numerous quacks wished to bleed her, and I overpowered them and gave her a drink of rum. ’Tis true that after she reached her own bed the Earl’s physician bled her, but she did not seem to appreciate it although he drew twenty-five ounces, I think. But she has remained always grateful for the hot rum.”
CHAPTER XXIII
At supper that evening Doctor Chord amplified some of his views “A few staunch retainers could quickly aid you to scale the walls of the castle,” said he. “But I have forgotten,” he added blankly. “’Tis not a castle. ’Tis a house.”
“If you would take some of these ancient ideas and bury them in the garden,” said I, “they might grow in time to be some kind of turnip or other valuable food. But at the present moment they do not seem to me to serve much purpose. Supposing that the house is not a castle? What of that?”
“Castles—” said he. “Castles lend themselves—”
“Castles!” I cried. “Have done with castles! All castles may be Jews, as you say. But this is a house.”
“I remarked that it was a house,” he answered gently. “It was that point that I was making.”
“Very good,” said I. “We will now proceed to define matters. Do you know if Lady Mary walks in the garden? It is absolutely necessary that Lady Mary should walk in the garden.”
“She does,” he replied at once. “At this season of the year Lady Mary walks in the garden on every fine day at ten of the clock.”
“Then,” I cried, smiting the table, “our course is clear; I feel elate. My only regret is that my father is not here to give me a word now and then, for ’tis a game he would know down to the ground.”
“Although I am not your father,” said Doctor Chord modestly, “I may be able to suggest some expedient way of gaining entrance to the castle.”
“House,” said I.
“House,” said he.
“However,” said I, “we must lower ourselves to extremely practical matters. Can you climb a tree?”
“A tree?” said he. “Climb a tree? Strap me!”
“’Tis all very well to strap yourself in this fashion,” said I rather warmly; “but the climbing of trees appears here as an important matter. In my part of Ireland there are few trees, and so climbing trees did not enter into my education. However, I am willing to attempt the climbing of a tree for the sake of my true love, and if I fall — how high is this wall? Do you remember?”
“’Twas at least ten feet,” answered the Doctor. “And there is a murderous row of spikes at the top. But,” he added, “the more spikes and all that make them the more convinced that the garden is perfectly safe from intrusion.”
“That’s a world of sense out of you,” I cried. “The spikes convince them the garden is safe from intrusion, and so they give over their watchfulness. So now in the morning we will go there, and I will climb one of the oak-trees bordering the wall — may the saints aid me!”
“You were asking if I could climb a tree,” remarked the Doctor. “I will point out to you that it is a question of no importance. It is you yourself who must climb the tree; for even if I succeeded in the arduous and painful task I could not pay your vows to Lady Mary, and for such purpose primarily the tree is to be climbed.”
“True for you, Doctor,” I answered with a sigh. “True for you. I must climb the tree. I can see that. I had some thought of making Paddy climb it, but, as you say, a man must do his own love-making, and by the same token I would break the head of any one who tried to do it for me. I would that! In this world people must climb their own trees. Now that I think of it seriously, it was ridiculous in me to plan that Paddy should climb the tree.”
“‘Second thoughts are always best,’” said the little Doctor piously. “’Tis a phrase from one of the greatest writers of the day. And at any rate I myself, because of age and debility, would not be able to climb a tree.”
“Let us say no more of it,” said I. “I see my mistake. But tell me one thing. I know you are a man with a great deal on your mind. Can you spare the time for this adventure?”
But on this point the Doctor was very clear and emphatic. I think if I had said he could not have a place in the plot he would have died immediately of a broken heart.
“’Tis true I have not yet finished my treatise proving that the touchstone is fallible,” he cried eagerly; “but it would give me pleasure to delay the work indefinitely if in the meantime I can be of assistance.”
“That is a man’s talk,” I said. “Well, then, in the morning we will go forth to do or die. And now a glass to success.”
That night I slept very heartily, for some of my father’s soldier training is in my veins, and on the eve of a hard or precarious work I am always able to get sound rest. My father often said that on the night before a battle in which he would stand seventy-seven chances of being killed he always slept like a dog in front of the fire.
At dawn I was up and ready. My first move was to have Paddy and Jem sent to me, and to give them such information as would lead them to an intelligent performance of their duties during the day. “Mind ye now,” said I, “here’s where the whole thing may be won or lost. There is a lovely lady inside the walls of that garden which I was showing you yesterday. She lives in the big house. She is the lady who made you feel ashamed when you took the old Earl’s — well, never mind! I hope we are all properly repentant over it. However, I had better be getting on with the matter in hand. She lives there, and if I can find no way to gain speech of her we all three of us will have to take to the thickets, and that’s the truth.”
“If I could but lay my fingers on her throttle,” said Jem Bottles in a blood-curdling voice, “she soon enough would—”
“Stop!” I cried. “You misunderstood me!”
“Aye, he does,” spoke in Paddy. “But I know what your honour is meaning. You are mean
ing that the young lady — aye, didn’t I see her, and didn’t she give me a look of her eye? Aye, I know what your honour is meaning.”
“You are knowing it precisely,” said I. “The young lady is more to me than three Irelands. You understand? Well, then, in the first place I must gain speech of her. To-day we march out and see what I can accomplish by climbing trees. In the meantime you two are to lay in waiting and assist me when necessary.”
“I am foreseeing that everything will be easy,” cried Paddy jubilantly.
“You are an Irishman,” I responded in anger.
“Aye,” he replied bitterly, “and another is within reach of my stick if it weren’t for my respect for my betters, although such a thing never could happen, please God!”
“No bold talk,” said I. “You may do that after.” I bade Jem Bottles load his pistols and carry them handy, but to keep them well concealed. Paddy preferred to campaign with only a stout stick. I took one pistol, and of course my sword.
These preparations deeply stirred Jem Bottles and Paddy.
“Your honour,” said Paddy, “if I see a man pulling you by the leg when you would be climbing the tree, may I hit him one lick?”
“Aye,” growled Jem Bottles, “and if I get a pistol against his head, he’ll find out the difference between gunpowder and sand.”
“Stop,” I cried. “You have the wrong idea entirely. This talk of carnage startles me and alarms me. Remember we are in London. In London even the smallest massacre arouses great excitement. There are to be no killings, and even no sound thrashings. It is all to be done with dainty gloves. Neither one of the pair of you looks fitted for the work, but I am obliged to make you serve by hook or crook. ’Tis too late to scour the country looking for good comrades. I must put up with you, since I can get no better.”
Complete Works of Stephen Crane Page 78
