CHAPTER XLVII. Visitors in Trouble
Mr. Gumbo's generous and feeling conduct soothed and softened the angryheart of his master, and Harry's second night in the spunging-house waspassed more pleasantly than the first. Somebody at least there was tohelp and compassionate with him. Still, though softened in that oneparticular spot, Harry's heart was hard and proud towards almost allthe rest of the world. They were selfish and ungenerous, he thought.His pious Aunt Warrington, his lordly friend March, his cynical cousinCastlewood,--all had been tried, and were found wanting. Not to avoidtwenty years of prison would he stoop to ask a favour of one of themagain. Fool that he had been, to believe in their promises, and confidein their friendship! There was no friendship in this cursed, cold,selfish country. He would leave it. He would trust no Englishman, greator small. He would go to Germany, and make a campaign with the king; orhe would go home to Virginia, bury himself in the woods there, andhunt all day; become his mother's factor and land-steward; marry PollyBroadbent, or Fanny Mountain; turn regular tobacco-grower and farmer; doanything, rather than remain amongst these English fine gentlemen. So hearose with an outwardly cheerful countenance, but an angry spirit; andat an early hour in the morning the faithful Gumbo was in attendancein his master's chamber, having come from Bond Street, and brought Mr.Harry's letters thence. "I wanted to bring some more clothes," honestGumbo said; "but Mr. Ruff, the landlord, he wouldn't let me bring nomore."
Harry did not care to look at the letters: he opened one, two, three;they were all bills. He opened a fourth; it was from the landlord, tosay that he would allow no more of Mr. Warrington's things to go out ofthe house,--that unless his bill was paid he should sell Mr. W.'s goodsand pay himself: and that his black man must go and sleep elsewhere. Hewould hardly let Gumbo take his own clothes and portmanteau away. Theblack said he had found refuge elsewhere--with some friends at LordWrotham's house. "With Colonel Lambert's people," says Mr. Gumbo,looking very hard at his master. "And Miss Hetty she fall down in afaint, when she hear you taken up; and Mr. Lambert, he very good man,and he say to me this morning, he say, 'Gumbo, you tell your master ifhe want me he send to me, and I come to him.'"
Harry was touched when he heard that Hetty had been afflicted by hismisfortune. He did not believe Gumbo's story about her fainting; hewas accustomed to translate his black's language and to allow forexaggeration. But when Gumbo spoke of the Colonel the young Virginian'sspirit was darkened again. "I send to Lambert" he thought, grinding histeeth, "the man who insulted me, and flung my presents back in my face!If I were starving I would not ask him for a crust!" And presently,being dressed, Mr. Warrington called for his breakfast, and despatchedGumbo with a brief note to Mr. Draper in the Temple, requiring thatgentleman's attendance.
"The note was as haughty as if he was writing to one of his negroes, andnot to a freeborn English gentleman," Draper said; whom indeed Harry hadalways treated with insufferable condescension. "It's all very wellfor a fine gentleman to give himself airs; but for a fellow in aspunging-house! Hang him!" says Draper, "I've a great mind not togo!" Nevertheless, Mr. Draper did go, and found Mr. Warrington in hismisfortune even more arrogant than he had ever been in the days of hisutmost prosperity. Mr. W. sat on his bed, like a lord, in a splendidgown with his hair dressed. He motioned his black man to fetch him achair.
"Excuse me, madam, but such haughtiness and airs I ain't accustomed to!"said the outraged attorney.
"Take a chair and go on with your story, my good Mr. Draper!" saidMadame de Bernstein, smiling, to whom he went to report proceedings.She was amused at the lawyer's anger. She liked her nephew for beinginsolent in adversity.
The course which Draper was to pursue in his interview with Harryhad been arranged between the Baroness and her man of business on theprevious day. Draper was an able man, and likely in most cases to do aclient good service: he failed in the present instance because he waspiqued and angry, or, more likely still, because he could not understandthe gentleman with whom he had to deal. I presume that he who casts hiseye on the present page is the most gentle of readers. Gentleman, asyou unquestionably are, then, my dear sir, have you not remarked inyour dealings with people who are no gentlemen, that you offend them notknowing the how or the why? So the man who is no gentleman offends youin a thousand ways of which the poor creature has no idea himself. Hedoes or says something which provokes your scorn. He perceives thatscorn (being always on the watch, and uneasy about himself, his mannersand behaviour) and he rages. You speak to him naturally, and he fanciesstill that you are sneering at him. You have indifference towardshim, but he hates you, and hates you the worse because you don'tcare. "Gumbo, a chair to Mr. Draper!" says Mr. Warrington, folding hisbrocaded dressing-gown round his legs as he sits on the dingy bed. "Sitdown, if you please, and let us talk my business over. Much obliged toyou for coming so soon in reply to my message. Had you heard of thispiece of ill-luck before?"
Mr. Draper had heard of the circumstance. "Bad news travel quick, Mr.Warrington," he said; "and I was eager to offer my humble services assoon as ever you should require them. Your friends, your family, will bemuch pained that a gentleman of your rank should be in such a position."
"I have been very imprudent, Mr. Draper. I have lived beyond my means."(Mr. Draper bowed.) "I played in company with gentlemen who were muchricher than myself, and a cursed run of ill-luck has carried away all myready money, leaving me with liabilities to the amount of five hundredpounds, and more."
"Five hundred now in the office," says Mr. Draper.
"Well, this is such a trifle that I thought by sending to one or twofriends, yesterday, I could have paid my debt and gone home withoutfurther to do. I have been mistaken; and will thank you to have thekindness to put me in the way of raising the money as soon as may be."
Mr. Draper said "Hm!" and pulled a very grave and long face.
"Why, sir, it can be done!" says Mr. Warrington, staring at the lawyer.
It not only could be done, but Mr. Draper had proposed to MadameBernstein on the day before instantly to pay the money, and releaseMr. Warrington. That lady had declared she intended to make the younggentleman her heir. In common with the rest of the world, Draperbelieved Harry's hereditary property in Virginia to be as great inmoney-value as in extent. He had notes in his pocket, and MadameBernstein's order to pay them under certain conditions: nevertheless,when Harry said, "It can be done!" Draper pulled his long face, andsaid, "It can be done in time, sir; but it will require a considerabletime. To touch the property in England which is yours on Mr. GeorgeWarrington's death, we must have the event proved, the trusteesreleased: and who is to do either? Lady Esmond Warrington in Virginia,of course, will not allow her son to remain in prison, but we must waitsix months before we hear from her. Has your Bristol agent any authorityto honour your drafts?"
"He is only authorised to pay me two hundred pounds a year," says Mr.Warrington. "I suppose I have no resource, then, but to apply to myaunt, Madame de Bernstein. She will be my security."
"Her ladyship will do anything for you, sir; she has said so to me,often and often," said the lawyer; "and, if she gives the word at thatmoment you can walk out of this place."
"Go to her, then, from me, Mr. Draper. I did not want to have troubledmy relations: but rather than continue in this horrible needlessimprisonment, I must speak to her. Say where I am, and what has befallenme. Disguise nothing! And tell her, that I confide in her affectionand kindness for me to release me from this--this disgrace," and Mr.Warrington's voice shook a little, and he passed his hand across hiseyes.
"Sir," says Mr. Draper, eyeing the young man, "I was with her ladyshipyesterday, when we talked over the whole of this here most unpleasant--Iwon't say as you do, disgraceful business."
"What do you mean, sir? Does Madame de Bernstein know of my misfortune?"asked Harry.
"Every circumstance, sir; the pawning the watches, and all."
Harry turned burning red. "It is an unfortunate business, the pawningthem watches and things w
hich you had never paid for," continued thelawyer. The young man started up from the bed, looking so fierce thatDraper felt a little alarmed.
"It may lead to litigation and unpleasant remarks being made, in court,sir. Them barristers respect nothing; and when they get a feller in thebox----"
"Great Heaven, sir, you don't suppose a gentleman of my rank can't takea watch upon credit without intending to cheat the tradesman?" criedHarry, in the greatest agitation.
"Of course you meant everything that's honourable; only, you see, thelaw mayn't happen to think so," says Mr. Draper, winking his eye. ("Hangthe supercilious beast; I touch him there!) Your aunt says it's the mostimprudent thing ever she heard of--to call it by no worse name."
"You call it by no worse name yourself, Mr. Draper?" says Harry,speaking each word very slow, and evidently trying to keep a command ofhimself.
Draper did not like his looks. "Heaven forbid that I should say anythingas between gentleman and gentleman,--but between me and my client, it'smy duty to say, 'Sir, you are in a very unpleasant scrape,' just as adoctor would have to tell his patient, 'Sir, you are very ill.'"
"And you can't help me to pay this debt off,--and you have come only totell me that I may be accused of roguery?" says Harry.
"Of obtaining goods under false pretences? Most undoubtedly, yes. Ican't help it, sir. Don't look as if you would knock me down. (Cursehim, I am making him wince, though.) A young gentleman, who has only twohundred a year from his ma', orders diamonds and watches, and takes 'emto a pawnbroker. You ask me what people will think of such behaviour,and I tell you honestly. Don't be angry with me, Mr. Warrington."
"Go on, sir!" says Harry, with a groan.
The lawyer thought the day was his own. "But you ask if I can't helpto pay this debt off? And I say Yes--and that here is the money in mypocket to do it now, if you like--not mine, sir, my honoured client's,your aunt, Lady Bernstein. But she has a right to impose her conditions,and I've brought 'em with me."
"Tell them, sir," says Mr. Harry.
"They are not hard. They are only for your own good: and if you say Yes,we can call a hackney-coach, and go to Clarges Street together, whichI have promised to go there, whether you will or no. Mr. Warrington, Iname no names, but there was a question of marriage between you and acertain party."
"Ah!" said Harry; and his countenance looked more cheerful than it hadyet done.
"To that marriage my noble client, the Baroness, is most averse--havingother views for you, and thinking it will be your ruin to marry aparty,--of noble birth and title it is true; but, excuse me, not offirst-rate character, and so much older than yourself. You had given animprudent promise to that party."
"Yes; and she has it still," says Mr. Warrington.
"It has been recovered. She dropped it by an accident at Tunbridge,"says Mr. Draper, "so my client informed me; indeed her ladyship showedit me, for the matter of that. It was wrote in bl----"
"Never mind, sir!" cries Harry, turning almost as red as the ink whichhe had used to write his absurd promise, of which the madness and follyhad smote him with shame a thousand times over.
"At the same time letters, wrote to you, and compromising a noblefamily, were recovered," continues the lawyer. "You had lost 'em. It wasno fault of yours. You were away when they were found again. You maysay that that noble family, that you yourself, have a friend such as fewyoung men have. Well, sir, there's no earthly promise to bind you--onlyso many idle words said over a bottle, which very likely any gentlemanmay forget. Say you won't go on with this marriage--give me and my noblefriend your word of honour. Cry off, I say, Mr. W.! Don't be such ad----fool, saving your presence, as to marry an old woman who has jiltedscores of men in her time. Say the word, and I step downstairs, payevery shilling against you in the office, and put you down in my coach,either at your aunt's or at White's Club, if you like, with a couple ofhundred in your pocket. Say yes; and give us your hand! There's no usein sitting grinning behind these bars all day!"
So far Mr. Draper had had the best of the talk. Harry only longedhimself to be rid of the engagement from which his aunt wanted to freehim. His foolish flame for Maria Esmond had died out long since. If shewould release him, how thankful would he be! "Come! give us your hand,and say done!" says the lawyer, with a knowing wink. "Don't standshilly-shallying, sir. Law bless you, Mr. W., if I had married everybodyI promised, I should be like the Grand Turk, or Captain Macheath in theplay!"
The lawyer's familiarity disgusted Harry, who shrank from Draper,scarcely knowing that he did so. He folded his dressing gown round him,and stepped back from the other's proffered hand. "Give me a little timeto think of the matter, if you please, Mr. Draper," he said, "and havethe goodness to come to me again in an hour.
"Very good, sir, very good, sir!" says the lawyer, biting his lips, and,as he seized up his hat, turning very red. "Most parties would not wantan hour to consider about such an offer as I make you: but I suppose mytime must be yours, and I'll come again, and see whether you are togo or to stay. Good morning, sir, good morning:" and he went his way,growling curses down the stairs. "Won't take my hand, won't he? Willtell me in an hour's time! Hang his impudence! I'll show him what anhour is!"
Mr. Draper went to his chambers in dudgeon then; bullied his clerks allround, sent off a messenger to the Baroness, to say that he hadwaited on the young gentleman, who had demanded a little time forconsideration, which was for form's sake, as he had no doubt; the lawyerthen saw clients, transacted business, went out to his dinner in themost leisurely manner; and then finally turned his steps towards theneighbouring Cursitor Street. "He'll be at home when I call, the haughtybeast!" says Draper, with a sneer. "The Fortunate Youth in his room?"the lawyer asked of the sheriff's officer's aide-de-camp who came toopen the double doors.
"Mr. Warrington is in his apartment," said the gentleman, "but----" andhere the gentleman winked at Mr. Draper, and laid his hand on his nose.
"But what, Mr. Paddy from Cork?" said the lawyer.
"My name is Costigan; me familee is noble, and me neetive place is theIrish methrawpolis, Mr. Six-and-eightpence!" said the janitor, scowlingat Draper. A rich odour of spirituous liquors filled the little spacebetween the double doors where he held the attorney in conversation.
"Confound you, sir, let me pass!" bawled out Mr. Draper.
"I can hear you perfectly well, Six-and-eightpence, except your h's,which you dthrop out of your conversation. I'll thank ye not to callneems, me good friend, or me fingers and your nose will have to make anintimate hic-quaintance. Walk in, sir! Be polite for the future to yourshupariors in birth and manners, though they may be your infariors intemporary station. Confound the kay! Walk in, sir, I say!--Madam, I havethe honour of saluting ye most respectfully!"
A lady with her face covered with a capuchin, and further hidden by herhandkerchief, uttered a little exclamation as of alarm as she came downthe stairs at this instant and hurried past the lawyer. He was pressingforward to look at her--for Mr. Draper was very cavalier in his mannersto women--but the bailiff's follower thrust his leg between Draper andthe retreating lady, crying, "Keep your own distance, if you plaise!This way, madam! I at once recognised your ladysh----" Here he closedthe door on Draper's nose, and left that attorney to find his own way tohis client upstairs.
At six o'clock that evening the old Baroness de Bernstein was pacing upand down her drawing-crutch, and for ever running to the window when thenoise of a coach was heard passing in Clarges Street. She had delayedher dinner from hour to hour: she who scolded so fiercely, on ordinaryoccasions, if her cook was five minutes after his time. She had orderedtwo covers to be laid, plate to be set out, and some extra dishes to beprepared as if for a little fete. Four--five o'clock passed, and at sixshe looked from the window, and a coach actually stopped at her door.
"Mr. Draper" was announced, and entered bowing profoundly.
The old lady trembled on her stick. "Where is the boy?" she saidquickly. "I told you to bring him, sir! How dare you co
me without him?"
"It is not my fault, madam, that Mr. Warrington refuses to come." AndDraper gave his version of the interview which had just taken placebetween himself and the young Virginian.
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