CHAPTER X.
FACING THE ENEMY.
Sauntering slowly homeward Major Pendennis reached the George presently,and found Mr. Morgan his faithful valet, awaiting him at the door of theGeorge Inn, who stopped his master as he was about to take a candle togo to bed, and said, with his usual air of knowing deference, "I think,sir, if you would go into the coffee-room, there's a young gentlemanthere as you would like to see."
"What, is Mr. Arthur here?" the major said, in great anger.
"No, sir--but his great friend, Mr. Foker, sir. Lady Hagnes Foker'sson is here, sir. He's been asleep in the coffee-room since he took hisdinner, and has just rung for his coffee, sir. And I think, p'raps, youmight like to git into conversation with him," the valet said, openingthe coffee-room door.
The major entered; and there indeed was Mr. Foker, the only occupant ofthe place. He was rubbing his eyes, and sate before a table decoratedwith empty decanters and relics of dessert. He had intended to go to theplay too, but sleep had overtaken him after a copious meal, and he hadflung up his legs on the bench, and indulged in a nap instead of thedramatic amusement. The major was meditating how to address the youngman, but the latter prevented him that trouble.
"Like to look at the evening paper, sir?" said Mr. Foker, who was alwayscommunicative and affable; and he took up the _Globe_ from his table,and offered it to the new comer.
"I am very much obliged to you," said the major, with a grateful bowand smile. "If I don't mistake the family likeness, I have the pleasureof speaking to Mr. Henry Foker, Lady Agnes Foker's son. I have thehappiness to name her ladyship among my acquaintances--and you bear,sir, a Rosherville face."
"Hullo! I beg your pardon," Mr. Foker said, "I took you"--he was goingto say--"I took you for a commercial gent." But he stopped that phrase."To whom have I the pleasure of speaking?" he added.
"To a relative of a friend and schoolfellow of yours--Arthur Pendennis,my nephew, who has often spoken to me about you in terms of greatregard. I am Major Pendennis, of whom you may have heard him speak. MayI take my soda-water at your table? I have had the pleasure of sittingat your grandfather's."
"Sir, you do me proud," said Mr. Foker, with much courtesy. "And so youare Arthur Pendennis's uncle, are you?"
"And guardian," added the major.
"He's as good a fellow as ever stepped, sir," said Mr. Foker.
"I am glad you think so."
"And clever, too--I was always a stupid chap, I was--but you see, sir,I know 'em when they are clever, and like 'em of that sort.
"You show your taste and your modesty, too," said the major. "I haveheard Arthur repeatedly speak of you, and he said your talents werevery good."
"I'm not good at the books," Mr. Foker said, wagging his head--"nevercould manage that--Pendennis could--he used to do half the chaps'verses--and yet"--the young gentleman broke out--"you are his guardian;and I hope you will pardon me for saying that I think he is what _we_call a flat," the candid young gentleman said.
The major found himself on the instant in the midst of a mostinteresting and confidential conversation. "And how is Arthur a flat?"he asked, with a smile.
"You know," Foker answered, winking at him--he would have winked at theDuke of Wellington with just as little scruple, for he was in that stateof absence, candor, and fearlessness, which a man sometimes possessesafter drinking a couple of bottles of wine--"You know Arthur's aflat--about women I mean."
"He is not the first of us, my dear Mr. Harry," answered the major."I have heard something of this--but pray tell me more.'"
"Why, sir, see--it's partly my fault. He went to the play onenight--for you see I'm down here readin' for my little-go during theLong, only I come over from Baymouth pretty often in my drag--well,sir, we went to the play, and Pen was struck all of a heap with MissFotheringay--Costigan her real name is--an uncommon fine gal sheis too; and the next morning I introduced him to the general, aswe call her father--a regular old scamp--and _such_ a boy for thewhisky-and-water!--and he's gone on being intimate there. And he'sfallen in love with her--and I'm blessed if he hasn't proposed toher," Foker said, slapping his hand on the table, until all thedessert began to jingle.
"What! you know it too?" asked the major.
"Know it! don't I? and many more too. We were talking about it at mess,yesterday, and chaffing Derby Oaks--until he was as mad as a hatter.Know Sir Derby Oaks? We dined together, and he went to the play; we werestanding at the door smoking, I remember, when you passed in to dinner."
"I remember Sir Thomas Oaks, his father, before he was a baronet ora knight; he lived in Cavendish-square, and was Physician to QueenCharlotte."
"The young one is making the money spin, I can tell you," Mr. Fokersaid.
"And is Sir Derby Oaks," the major said, with great delight and anxiety,"another _soupirant_?"
"Another _what_?" inquired Mr. Foker.
"Another admirer of Miss Fotheringay?"
"Lord bless you! we call him, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Pen,Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. But, mind you, nothing wrong! No,no! Miss F. is a deal too wide awake for that, Major Pendennis. Sheplays one off against the other. What you call two strings to her bow."
"I think you seem tolerably wide awake, too, Mr. Foker," Pendennis said,laughing.
"Pretty well thank you, sir--how are you?" Foker replied, imperturbably."I'm not clever, p'raps: but I _am_ rather downy; and partial friendssay I know what's o'clock tolerably well. Can I tell you the time of dayin any way?"
"Upon my word," the major answered, quite delighted, "I think you maybe of very great service to me. You are a young man of the world, andwith such one likes to deal. And as such I need not inform you that ourfamily is by no means delighted at this absurd intrigue in which Arthuris engaged."
"I should rather think not," said Mr. Foker. "Connection not eligible.Too much beer drunk on the premises. No Irish need apply. That I taketo be your meaning."
The major said it was, exactly; though in truth he did not quiteunderstand what Mr. Foker's meaning was: and he proceeded to examine hisnew acquaintance regarding the amiable family into which his nephewproposed to enter, and soon got from the candid witness a number ofparticulars regarding the house of Costigan.
We must do Mr. Foker the justice to say that he spoke most favorably ofMr. and Miss Costigan's moral character. "You see," said he, "I thinkthe general is fond of the jovial bowl, and if I wanted to be verycertain of my money, it isn't in his pocket I'd invest it--but he hasalways kept a watchful eye on his daughter, and neither he nor she willstand any thing but what's honorable. Pen's attentions to her are talkedabout in the whole Company, and I hear all about them from a young ladywho used to be very intimate with her, and with whose family I sometimestake tea in a friendly way. Miss Rouncy says, Sir Derby Oaks has beenhanging about Miss Fotheringay ever since his regiment has been downhere; but Pen has come in and cut him out lately, which has made thebaronet so mad, that he has been very near on the point of proposingtoo. Wish he would; and you'd see which of the two Miss Fotheringaywould jump at."
"I thought as much," the major said. "You give me a great deal ofpleasure, Mr. Foker. I wish I could have seen you before."
"Didn't like to put in my oar," replied the other. "Don't speak till I'masked, when, if there's no objections, I speak pretty freely. Heard yourman had been hankering about my servant--didn't know myself what wasgoing on until Miss Fotheringay and Miss Rouncy had the row about theostrich feathers, when Miss R. told me every thing."
"Miss Rouncy, I gather, was the confidante of the other."
"Confidant? I believe you. Why she's twice as clever a girl asFotheringay, and literary and that, while Miss Foth can't do much morethan read."
"She can write," said the major, remembering Pen's breast pocket.
Foker broke out into a sardonic "He, he! Rouncy writes her letters," hesaid; "every one of 'em; and since they've quarreled, she don't know howthe deuce to get on. Miss Rouncy is an uncommon pretty hand, w
hereas theold one makes dreadful work of the writing and spelling when Bows ain'tby. Rouncy's been settin' her copies lately--she writes a beautifulhand, Rouncy does."
"I suppose you know it pretty well," said the major archly: upon whichMr. Foker winked at him again.
"I would give a great deal to have a specimen of her handwriting,"continued Major Pendennis, "I dare say you could give me one."
"No, no, that would be too bad," Foker replied. "Perhaps I oughtn't tohave said as much as I have. Miss F.'s writin' ain't so _very_ bad, Idare say; only she got Miss R. to write the first letter, and has goneon ever since. But you mark my word, that till they are friends againthe letters will stop."
"I hope they will never be reconciled," the major said, with greatsincerity; "and I can't tell you how delighted I am to have had the goodfortune of making your acquaintance. You must feel, my dear sir, as aman of the world, how fatal to my nephew's prospects in life is thisstep which he contemplates, and how eager we all must be to free himfrom this absurd engagement."
"He has come out uncommon strong," said Mr. Foker; "I have seen hisverses; Rouncy copied 'em. And I said to myself when I saw 'em, 'Catch_me_ writin' verses to a woman--that's all.'"
"He has made a fool of himself, as many a good fellow has before him.How can we make him see his folly and cure it? I am sure you will giveus what aid you can in extricating a generous young man from such a pairof schemers as this father and daughter seem to be. Love on the lady'sside is out of the question."
"Love, indeed!" Foker said. "If Pen hadn't two thousand a year when hecame of age--"
"If Pen hadn't _what_?" cried out the major, in astonishment.
"Two thousand a year: hasn't he got two thousand a year?--the generalsays he has."
"My dear friend," shrieked out the major, with an eagerness whichthis gentleman rarely showed, "thank you!--thank you!--I begin to seenow.--Two thousand a year! Why, his mother has but five hundred a yearin the world.--She is likely to live to eighty, and Arthur has not ashilling but what she can allow him."
"What! he ain't rich then?" Foker asked.
"Upon my honor, he has no more than what I say."
"And you ain't going to leave him any thing?"
The major had sunk every shilling he could scrape together on annuity,and of course was going to leave Pen nothing; but he did not tell Fokerthis. "How much do you think a major on half-pay can save?" he asked."If these people have been looking at him as a fortune, they are utterlymistaken--and--and you have made me the happiest man in the world."
"Sir to you," said Mr. Foker, politely, and when they parted for thenight they shook hands with the greatest cordiality; the youngergentleman promising the elder not to leave Chatteries without a furtherconversation in the morning. And as the major went up to his room, andMr. Foker smoked his cigar against the door pillars of the George, Pen,very likely, ten miles off, was lying in bed kissing the letter from hisEmily.
The next morning before Mr. Foker drove off in his drag, the insinuatingmajor had actually got a letter of Miss Rouncy's in his own pocket-book.Let it be a lesson to women how they write. And in very high spiritsMajor Pendennis went to call upon Doctor Portman at the Deanery, andtold him what happy discoveries he had made on the previous night.As they sat in confidential conversation in the dean's oak breakfastparlor, they could look across the lawn and see Captain Costigan'swindow, at which poor Pen had been only too visible some three weekssince. The doctor was most indignant against Mrs. Creed the landlady,for her duplicity, in concealing Sir Derby Oaks's constant visits to herlodgers, and threatened to excommunicate her out of the cathedral. Butthe wary major thought that all things were for the best; and, havingtaken counsel with himself over night, felt himself quite strong enoughto go and face Captain Costigan.
"I'm going to fight the dragon," he said, with a laugh, to DoctorPortman.
"And I shrive you, sir, and bid good fortune go with you," answered thedoctor. Perhaps he and Mrs. Portman and Miss Mira, as they sate withtheir friend the dean's lady, in her drawing-room, looked up more thanonce at the enemy's window to see if they could perceive any signs ofthe combat.
The major walked round, according to the directions given him, and soonfound Mrs. Creed's little door. He passed in, and as he ascended toCaptain Costigan's apartment, he could hear a stamping of feet, and agreat shouting of "Ha, ha!" within.
"It's Sir Derby Oaks taking his fencing lesson," said the child, whopiloted Major Pendennis. "He takes it Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."
The major knocked, and at length a tall gentleman came forth, with afoil and mask in one hand, and a fencing glove on the other.
Pendennis made him a deferential bow. "I believe I have the honor ofspeaking to Captain Costigan.--My name is Major Pendennis."
The captain brought his weapon up to the salute, and said--"Major, thehonor is moine; I'm deloighted to see ye."
A History of Pendennis, Volume 1 Page 12
