The Last of the Barons — Complete

by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

  CHAPTER VII. THERE IS A ROD FOR THE BACK OF EVERY FOOL WHO WOULD BEWISER THAN HIS GENERATION.

  The next morning, when Marmaduke descended to the hall, Madge, accostinghim on the threshold, informed him that Mistress Sibyll was unwell, andkept her chamber, and that Master Warner was never visible much beforenoon. He was, therefore, prayed to take his meal alone. "Alone" wasa word peculiarly unwelcome to Marmaduke Nevile, who was an animalthoroughly social and gregarious. He managed, therefore, to detain theold servant, who, besides the liking a skilful leech naturally takes toa thriving patient, had enough of her sex about her to be pleased witha comely face and a frank, good-humoured voice. Moreover, Marmaduke,wishing to satisfy his curiosity, turned the conversation upon Warnerand Sibyll, a theme upon which the old woman was well disposed to begarrulous. He soon learned the poverty of the mansion and the sacrificeof the gittern; and his generosity and compassion were busily engaged indevising some means to requite the hospitality he had received, withoutwounding the pride of his host, when the arrival of his mails, togetherwith the visits of the tailor and mercer, sent to him by Alwyn, divertedhis thoughts into a new channel.

  Between the comparative merits of gowns and surcoats, broad-toed shoesand pointed, some time was disposed of with much cheerfulness andedification; but when his visitors had retired, the benevolent mind ofthe young guest again recurred to the penury of his host. Placing hismarks before him on the table in the little withdrawing parlour,he began counting them over, and putting aside the sum he meditateddevoting to Warner's relief. "But how," he muttered, "how to get him totake the gold. I know, by myself, what a gentleman and a knight's sonmust feel at the proffer of alms--pardie! I would as lief Alwyn hadstruck me as offered me his gipsire,--the ill-mannered, affectionatefellow! I must think--I must think--"

  And while still thinking, the door softly opened, and Warner himself,in a high state of abstraction and revery, stalked noiselessly intothe room, on his way to the garden, in which, when musing over some newspring for his invention, he was wont to peripatize. The sight of thegold on the table struck full on the philosopher's eyes, and waked himat once from his revery. That gold--oh, what precious instruments, whatlearned manuscripts it could purchase! That gold, it was the breath oflife to his model! He walked deliberately up to the table, and laid hishand upon one of the little heaps. Marmaduke drew back his stool, andstared at him with open mouth.

  "Young man, what wantest thou with all this gold?" said Adam, in apetulant, reproachful tone. "Put it up! put it up! Never let the poorsee gold; it tempts them, sir,--it tempts them." And so saying, thestudent abruptly turned away his eyes, and moved towards the garden.Marmaduke rose and put himself in Adam's way. "Honoured sir," said theyoung man, "you say justly what want I with all this gold? The only golda young man should covet is eno' to suffice for the knight's spursto his heels. If, without offence, you would--that is--ahem!--Imean,--Gramercy! I shall never say it, but I believe my father owed yourfather four marks, and he bade me repay them. Here, sir!" He held outthe glittering coins; the philosopher's hand closed on them as thefish's maw closes on the bait. Adam burst into a laugh, that soundedstrangely weird and unearthly upon Marmaduke's startled ear.

  "All this for me!" he exclaimed. "For me! No, no, no! for me, for IT--Itake it--I take it, sir! I will pay it back with large usury. Come to methis day year, when this world will be a new world, and Adam Warnerwill be--ha! ha! Kind Heaven, I thank thee!" Suddenly turning away, thephilosopher strode through the hall, opened the front door, and escapedinto the street.

  "By'r Lady," said Marmaduke, slowly recovering his surprise, "I neednot have been so much at a loss; the old gentleman takes to my gold askindly as if it were mother's milk. 'Fore Heaven, mine host's laugh isa ghastly thing!" So soliloquizing, he prudently put up the rest of hismoney, and locked his mails.

  As time went on, the young man became exceedingly weary of his owncompany. Sibyll still withheld her appearance; the gloom of the oldhall, the uncultivated sadness of the lonely garden, preyed upon hisspirits. At length, impatient to get a view of the world without, hemounted a high stool in the hall, and so contrived to enjoy the prospectwhich the unglazed wicker lattice, deep set in the wall, afforded. Butthe scene without was little more animated than that within,--all wasso deserted in the neighbourhood,--the shops mean and scattered, thethoroughfare almost desolate. At last he heard a shout, or rather hoot,at a distance; and, turning his attention whence it proceeded, he behelda figure emerge from an alley opposite the casement, with a sack underone arm, and several books heaped under the other. At his heels followeda train of ragged boys, shouting and hallooing, "The wizard!the wizard!--Ah! Bah! The old devil's kin!" At this cry the dullneighbourhood seemed suddenly to burst forth into life. From thecasements and thresholds of every house curious faces emerged, and manyvoices of men and women joined, in deeper bass, with the shrill tenorof the choral urchins, "The wizard! the wizard! out at daylight!" Theperson thus stigmatized, as he approached the house, turned his facewith an expression of wistful perplexity from side to side. His lipsmoved convulsively, and his face was very pale, but he spoke not. Andnow, the children, seeing him near his refuge, became more outrageous.They placed themselves menacingly before him, they pulled his robe,they even struck at him; and one, bolder than the rest, jumped up, andplucked his beard. At this last insult, Adam Warner, for it was he,broke silence; but such was the sweetness of his disposition, that itwas rather with pity than reproof in his voice, that he said,--

  "Fie, little one! I fear me thine own age will have small honour if thouthus mockest mature years in me."

  This gentleness only served to increase the audacity of his persecutors,who now, momently augmenting, presented a formidable obstacle tofurther progress. Perceiving that he could not advance without offensivemeasures on his own part, the poor scholar halted; and looking at thecrowd with mild dignity, he asked, "What means this, my children? Howhave I injured you?"

  "The wizard! the wizard!" was the only answer he received. Adam shruggedhis shoulders, and strode on with so sudden a step, that one of thesmaller children, a curly-headed laughing rogue, of about eight yearsold, was thrown down at his feet, and the rest gave way. But thepoor man, seeing one of his foes thus fallen, instead of pursuing hisvictory, again paused, and forgetful of the precious burdens he carried,let drop the sack and books, and took up the child in his arms. Onseeing their companion in the embrace of the wizard, a simultaneous cryof horror broke from the assemblage, "He is going to curse poor Tim!"

  "My child! my boy!" shrieked a woman, from one of the casements; "let gomy child!"

  On his part, the boy kicked and shrieked lustily, as Adam, bending hisnoble face tenderly over him, said, "Thou art not hurt, child. Poorboy! thinkest thou I would harm thee?" While he spoke a storm ofmissiles--mud, dirt, sticks, bricks, stones--from the enemy, that hadnow fallen back in the rear, burst upon him. A stone struck him on theshoulder. Then his face changed; an angry gleam shot from his deep, calmeyes; he put down the child, and, turning steadily to the grown peopleat the windows, said, "Ye train your children ill;" picked up his sackand books, sighed, as he saw the latter stained by the mire, which hewiped with his long sleeve, and too proud to show fear, slowly made forhis door. Fortunately Sibyll had heard the clamour, and was ready toadmit her father, and close the door upon the rush which instantaneouslyfollowed his escape. The baffled rout set up a yell of wrath, and theboys were now joined by several foes more formidable from the adjacenthouses; assured in their own minds that some terrible execrationhad been pronounced upon the limbs and body of Master Tim, who stillcontinued bellowing and howling, probably from the excitement of findinghimself raised to the dignity of a martyr, the pious neighbours pouredforth, with oaths and curses, and such weapons as they could seize inhaste, to storm the wizard's fortress.

  From his casement Marmaduke Nevile had espied all that had hithertopassed, and though indignant at the brutality of the persecutors, hehad thought it by no means unnatural. "If men, gent
lemen born, will readuncanny books, and resolve to be wizards, why, they must reap what theysow," was the logical reflection that passed through the mind of thatingenuous youth; but when he now perceived the arrival of more importantallies, when stones began to fly through the wicker lattice, whenthreats of setting fire to the house and burning the sorcerer whomuttered spells over innocent little boys were heard, seriouslyincreasing in depth and loudness, Marmaduke felt his chivalry calledforth, and with some difficulty opening the rusty wicket in thecasement, he exclaimed: "Shame on you, my countrymen, for thusdisturbing in broad day a peaceful habitation! Ye call mine host awizard. Thus much say I on his behalf: I was robbed and wounded a fewnights since in your neighbourhood, and in this house alone I foundshelter and healing."

  The unexpected sight of the fair young face of Marmaduke Nevile, and thehealthful sound of his clear ringing voice, produced a momentary effecton the besiegers, when one of them, a sturdy baker, cried out, "Heed himnot,--he is a goblin. Those devil-mongers can bake ye a dozen such everymoment, as deftly as I can draw loaves from the oven!"

  This speech turned the tide, and at that instant a savage-looking man,the father of the aggrieved boy, followed by his wife, gesticulating andweeping, ran from his house, waving a torch in his right hand, his armbare to the shoulder; and the cry of "Fire the door!" was universal.

  In fact, the danger now grew imminent: several of the party were alreadypiling straw and fagots against the threshold, and Marmaduke began tothink the only chance of life to his host and Sibyll was in flight bysome back way, when he beheld a man, clad somewhat in the fashion of acountry yeoman, a formidable knotted club in his hand, pushing his way,with Herculean shoulders, through the crowd; and stationing himselfbefore the threshold and brandishing aloft his formidable weapon, heexclaimed, "What! In the devil's name, do you mean to get yourselves allhanged for riot? Do you think that King Edward is as soft a man as KingHenry was, and that he will suffer any one but himself to set fire topeople's houses in this way? I dare say you are all right enough in themain, but by the blood of Saint Thomas, I will brain the first man whoadvances a step,--by way of preserving the necks of the rest!"

  "A Robin! a Robin!" cried several of the mob. "It is our good friendRobin. Harken to Robin. He is always right."

  "Ay, that I am!" quoth the defender; "you know that well enough. If Ihad my way, the world should be turned upside down, but what the poorfolk should get nearer to the sun! But what I say is this, never goagainst law, while the law is too strong. And it were a sad thing to seefifty fine fellows trussed up for burning an old wizard. So, be offwith you, and let us, at least all that can afford it, make for MasterSancroft's hostelrie and talk soberly over our ale. For little, I trow,will ye work now your blood's up."

  This address was received with a shout of approbation. The father of theinjured child set his broad foot on his torch, the baker chucked up hiswhite cap, the ragged boys yelled out, "A Robin! a Robin!" and inless than two minutes the place was as empty as it had been before theappearance of the scholar. Marmaduke, who, though so ignorant of books,was acute and penetrating in all matters of action, could not helpadmiring the address and dexterity of the club-bearer; and the dangerbeing now over, withdrew from the casement, in search of the inmates ofthe house. Ascending the stairs, he found on the landing-place, nearhis room, and by the embrasure of a huge casement which jutted from thewall, Adam and his daughter. Adam was leaning against the wall, with hisarms folded, and Sibyll, hanging upon him, was uttering the softest andmost soothing words of comfort her tenderness could suggest.

  "My child," said the old man, shaking his head sadly, "I shall neveragain have heart for these studies,--never! A king's anger I couldbrave, a priest's malice I could pity; but to find the very children,the young race for whose sake I have made thee and myself paupers, tofind them thus--thus--" He stopped, for his voice failed him, and thetears rolled down his cheeks.

  "Come and speak comfort to my father, Master Nevile," exclaimed Sibyll;"come and tell him that whoever is above the herd, whether knight orscholar, must learn to despise the hootings that follow Merit. Father,Father, they threw mud and stones at thy king as he passed throughthe streets of London. Thou art not the only one whom this base worldmisjudges."

  "Worthy mine host!" said Marmaduke, thus appealed to, "Algates, it werenot speaking truth to tell thee that I think a gentleman of birth andquality should walk the thoroughfares with a bundle of books under hisarm; yet as for the raptril vulgar, the hildings and cullions whohiss one day what they applaud the next, I hold it the duty of everyChristian and well-born man to regard them as the dirt on the crossings.Brave soldiers term it no disgrace to receive a blow from a base hind.An' it had been knights and gentles who had insulted thee, thou mightesthave cause for shame. But a mob of lewd rascallions and squallinginfants--bah! verily, it is mere matter for scorn and laughter."

  These philosophical propositions and distinctions did not seem to havetheir due effect upon Adam. He smiled, however, gently upon his guest,and with a blush over his pale face, said, "I am rightly chastised, goodyoung man; mean was I, methinks, and sordid to take from thee thy goodgold. But thou knowest not what fever burns in the brain of a man whofeels that, had he wealth, his knowledge could do great things,--suchthings!--I thought to repay thee well. Now the frenzy is gone, andI, who an hour ago esteemed myself a puissant sage, sink in mine ownconceit to a miserable blinded fool. Child, I am very weak; I will layme down and rest."

  So saying, the poor philosopher went his way to his chamber, leaning onhis daughter's arm.

  In a few minutes Sibyll rejoined Marmaduke, who had returned to thehall, and informed him that her father had lain down a while to composehimself.

  "It is a hard fate, sir," said the girl, with a faint smile,--"a hardfate, to be banned and accursed by the world, only because one hassought to be wiser than the world is."

  "Douce maiden," returned the Nevile, "it is happy for thee that thy sexforbids thee to follow thy father's footsteps, or I should say his hardfate were thy fair warning."

  Sibyll smiled faintly, and after a pause, said, with a deep blush,--

  "You have been generous to my father; do not misjudge him. He would givehis last groat to a starving beggar. But when his passion of scholar andinventor masters him, thou mightest think him worse than miser. It is anovernoble yearning that ofttimes makes him mean."

  "Nay," answered Marmaduke, touched by the heavy sigh and swimming eyeswith which the last words were spoken; "I have heard Nick Alwyn's uncle,who was a learned monk, declare that he could not constrain himself topray to be delivered from temptation, seeing that he might thereby losean occasion for filching some notable book! For the rest," he added,"you forget how much I owe to Master Warner's hospitality."

  He took her hand with a frank and brotherly gallantry as he spoke; butthe touch of that small, soft hand, freely and innocently resigned tohim, sent a thrill to his heart--and again the face of Sibyll seemed tohim wondrous fair.

  There was a long silence, which Sibyll was the first to break. Sheturned the conversation once more upon Marmaduke's views in life. It hadbeen easy for a deeper observer than he was to see that, under allthat young girl's simplicity and sweetness, there lurked something ofdangerous ambition. She loved to recall the court-life her childhood hadknown, though her youth had resigned it with apparent cheerfulness. Likemany who are poor and fallen, Sibyll built herself a sad consolation outof her pride; she never forgot that she was well-born. But Marmaduke, inwhat was ambition, saw but interest in himself, and his heart beat morequickly as he bent his eyes upon that downcast, thoughtful, earnestcountenance.

  After an hour thus passed, Sibyll left the guest, and remounted to herfather's chamber. She found Adam pacing the narrow floor, and mutteringto himself. He turned abruptly as she entered, and said, "Come hither,child; I took four marks from that young man, for I wanted books andinstruments, and there are two left; see, take them back to him."

  "My father, he will not receiv
e them. Fear not, thou shalt repay himsome day."

  "Take them, I say, and if the young man says thee nay, why, buy thyselfgauds and gear, or let us eat, and drink, and laugh. What else is lifemade for? Ha, ha! Laugh, child, laugh!"

  There was something strangely pathetic in this outburst, this terriblemirth, born of profound dejection. Alas for this guileless, simplecreature, who had clutched at gold with a huckster's eagerness! who,forgetting the wants of his own child, had employed it upon the serviceof an Abstract Thought, and whom the scorn of his kind now piercedthrough all the folds of his close-webbed philosophy and self forgetfulgenius. Awful is the duel between MAN and THE AGE in which he lives! Forthe gain of posterity, Adam Warner had martyrized existence,--and thechildren pelted him as he passed the streets! Sibyll burst into tears.

  "No, my father, no," she sobbed, pushing back the money into his hands."Let us both starve rather than you should despond. God and man willbring you justice yet."

  "Ah," said the baffled enthusiast, "my whole mind is one sore now! Ifeel as if I could love man no more. Go, and leave me. Go, I say!" andthe poor student, usually so mild and gall-less, stamped his foot inimpotent rage. Sibyll, weeping as if her heart would break, left him.

  Then Adam Warner again paced to and fro restlessly, and again mutteredto himself for several minutes. At last he approached his Model,--themodel of a mighty and stupendous invention, the fruit of no chimericaland visionary science; a great Promethean THING, that, once matured,would divide the Old World from the New, enter into all operationsof Labour, animate all the future affairs, colour all the practicaldoctrines of active men. He paused before it, and addressed it as ifit heard and understood him: "My hair was dark, and my tread was firm,when, one night, a THOUGHT passed into my soul,--a thought to makeMatter the gigantic slave of Mind. Out of this thought, thou, not yetborn after five-and-twenty years of travail, wert conceived. My cofferswere then full, and my name was honoured; and the rich respected and thepoor loved me. Art thou a devil, that has tempted me to ruin, or a god,that has lifted me above the earth? I am old before my time, my hair isblanched, my frame is bowed, my wealth is gone, my name is sullied. Andall, dumb idol of Iron and the Element, all for thee! I had a wife whomI adored; she died,--I forgot her loss in the hope of thy life. I havea child still--God and our Lady forgive me! she is less dear to me thanthou hast been. And now"--the old man ceased abruptly, and folding hisarms, looked at the deaf iron sternly, as on a human foe. By his sidewas a huge hammer, employed in the toils of his forge; suddenly heseized and swung it aloft. One blow, and the labour of years wasshattered into pieces! One blow!--But the heart failed him, and thehammer fell heavily to the ground.

  "Ay!" he muttered, "true, true! if thou, who hast destroyed all else,wert destroyed too, what were left me? Is it a crime to murder Alan?--agreater crime to murder Thought, which is the life of all men! Come, Iforgive thee!"

  And all that day and all that night the Enthusiast laboured in hischamber, and the next day the remembrance of the hooting, the pelting,the mob, was gone,--clean gone from his breast. The Model began to move,life hovered over its wheels; and the Martyr of Science had forgottenthe very world for which he, groaning and rejoicing, toiled!