CHAPTER XXXVIII.
IN WHICH THE SYLPH REAPPEARS.
Better folks than Morgan, the valet, were not so well instructedas that gentleman, regarding the amount of Lady Clavering's riches;and the legend in London, upon her ladyship's arrival in the politemetropolis, was, that her fortune was enormous. Indigo factories, opiumclippers, banks overflowing with rupees, diamonds and jewels of nativeprinces, and vast sums of interest paid by them for loans contractedby themselves or their predecessors to Lady Clavering's father, werementioned as sources of her wealth. Her account at her London banker'swas positively known, and the sum embraced so many ciphers as to createas many O s of admiration in the wondering hearer. It was a known factthat an envoy from an Indian prince, a Colonel Altamont, the Nawaub ofLucknow's prime favorite, an extraordinary man, who had, it was said,embraced Mohammedanism, and undergone a thousand wild and perilousadventures, was at present in this country, trying to negotiate with theBegum Clavering, the sale of the Nawaub's celebrated nose-ring diamond,"the light of the Dewan."
Under the title of the Begum, Lady Clavering's fame began to spread inLondon before she herself descended upon the capital, and as it hasbeen the boast of De Lolme, and Blackstone, and all panegyrists of theBritish Constitution, that we admit into our aristocracy merit of everykind, and that the lowliest-born man, if he but deserve it, may wearthe robes of a peer, and sit alongside of a Cavendish or a Stanley: soit ought to be the boast of our good society, that haughty though it be,naturally jealous of its privileges, and careful who shall be admittedinto its circle, yet, if an individual be but rich enough, all barriersare instantly removed, and he or she is welcomed, as from her wealthhe merits to be. This fact shows our British independence and honestfeeling--our higher orders are not such mere haughty aristocrats as theignorant represent them: on the contrary, if a man have money they willhold out their hands to him, eat his dinners, dance at his balls, marryhis daughters, or give their own lovely girls to his sons, as affably asyour commonest roturier would do.
As he had superintended the arrangements of the country mansion, ourfriend, the Chevalier Strong, gave the benefit of his taste and adviceto the fashionable London upholsterers, who prepared the town housefor the reception of the Clavering family. In the decoration of thiselegant abode, honest Strong's soul rejoiced as much as if he had beenhimself its proprietor. He hung and re-hung the pictures, he studied thepositions of sofas, he had interviews with wine merchants and purveyorswho were to supply the new establishment; and at the same time thebaronet's factotum and confidential friend took the opportunity offurnishing his own chambers, and stocking his snug little cellar: hisfriends complimented him upon the neatness of the former; and the selectguests who came in to share Strong's cutlet now found a bottle ofexcellent claret to accompany the meal. The chevalier was now, as hesaid, "in clover:" he had a very comfortable set of rooms in Shepherd'sInn. He was waited on by a former Spanish Legionary and comrade of hiswhom he had left at a breach of a Spanish fort, and found at a crossingin Tottenham-court Road, and whom he had elevated to the rank ofbody-servant to himself and to the chum who, at present, shared hislodgings. This was no other than the favorite of the Nawaub of Lucknow,the valiant Colonel Altamont.
No man was less curious, or at any rate, more discreet, than Ned Strong,and he did not care to inquire into the mysterious connection which,very soon after their first meeting at Baymouth, was established betweenSir Francis Clavering and the envoy of the Nawaub. The latter knewsome secret regarding the former, which put Clavering into his power,somehow; and Strong, who knew that his patron's early life had beenrather irregular, and that his career with his regiment in India had notbeen brilliant, supposed that the colonel, who swore he knew Claveringwell at Calcutta, had some hold upon Sir Francis, to which the latterwas forced to yield. In truth, Strong had long understood Sir FrancisClavering's character, as that of a man utterly weak in purpose, inprinciple, and intellect, a moral and physical trifler and poltroon.
With poor Clavering, his excellency had had one or two interviews aftertheir Baymouth meeting, the nature of which conversations the baronetdid not confide to Strong: although he sent letters to Altamont by thatgentleman, who was his embassador in all sorts of affairs. On one ofthese occasions the Nawaub's envoy must have been in an exceedingill-humor; for he crushed Clavering's letter in his hand, and said withhis own particular manner and emphasis:
"A hundred, be hanged. I'll have no more letters nor no moreshilly-shally. Tell Clavering I'll have a thousand, or by Jove I'llsplit, and burst him all to atoms. Let him give me a thousand, andI'll go abroad, and I give you my honor as a gentleman, I'll not askhim for no more for a year. Give him that message from me, Strong, myboy; and tell him if the money ain't here next Friday at 12 o'clock,as sure as my name's what it is, I'll have a paragraph in the newspaperon Saturday, and next week I'll blow up the whole concern."
Strong carried back these words to his principal, on whom their effectwas such that actually on the day and hour appointed, the chevalier madehis appearance once more at Altamont's hotel at Baymouth, with the sumof money required. Altamont was a gentleman, he said, and behaved assuch; he paid his bill at the inn, and the Baymouth paper announced hisdeparture on a foreign tour. Strong saw him embark at Dover. "It mustbe forgery at the very least," he thought, "that has put Clavering intothis fellow's power, and the colonel has got the bill."
Before the year was out, however, this happy country saw the colonelonce more upon its shores. A confounded run on the red had finished him,he said, at Baden Baden: no gentleman could stand against a colorcoming up fourteen times. He had been obliged to draw upon Sir FrancisClavering for means of returning home: and Clavering, though pressedfor money (for he had election expenses, had set up his establishment inthe country, and was engaged in furnishing his London house), yet foundmeans to accept Colonel Altamont's bill, though evidently very muchagainst his will; for in Strong's hearing, Sir Francis wished to heaven,with many curses, that the colonel could have been locked up in adebtors' jail in Germany, for life, so that he might never be troubledagain.
These sums for the colonel, Sir Francis was obliged to raise withoutthe knowledge of his wife; for though perfectly liberal, nay, sumptuousin her expenditure, the good lady had inherited a tolerable aptitudefor business along with the large fortune of her father, Snell, and gaveto her husband only such a handsome allowance as she thought befitteda gentleman of his rank. Now and again she would give him a present,or pay an outstanding gambling debt; but she always exacted a prettyaccurate account of the moneys so required; and respecting the subsidiesto the colonel, Clavering fairly told Strong that he _couldn't_ speak tohis wife.
Part of Mr. Strong's business in life was to procure this money andother sums, for his patron. And in the chevalier's apartments, inShepherd's Inn, many negotiations took place between gentlemen of themoneyed world and Sir Francis Clavering; and many valuable bank notesand pieces of stamped paper were passed between them. When a man hasbeen in the habit of getting in debt from his early youth, and ofexchanging his promises to pay at twelve months against present sumsof money, it would seem as if no piece of good fortune ever permanentlybenefited him: a little while after the advent of prosperity, themoney-lender is pretty certain to be in the house again, and the billswith the old signature in the market. Clavering found it more convenientto see these gentry at Strong's lodgings than at his own; and such wasthe chevalier's friendship for the baronet, that although he did notpossess a shilling of his own, his name might be seen as the drawer ofalmost all the bills of exchange which Sir Francis Clavering accepted.Having drawn Clavering's bills, he got them discounted "in the city."When they became due he parleyed with the bill-holders, and gavethem installments of their debt, or got time in exchange for freshacceptances. Regularly or irregularly, gentlemen must live somehow:and as we read how, the other day, at Comorn, the troops forming thatgarrison were gay and lively, acted plays, danced at balls, and consumedtheir rations; though menaced with an assaul
t from the enemy without thewalls, and with a gallows if the Austrians were successful--so there arehundreds of gallant spirits in this town, walking about in good spirits,dining every day in tolerable gayety and plenty, and going to sleepcomfortably; with a bailiff always more or less near, and a rope of debtround their necks--the which trifling inconveniences, Ned Strong, theold soldier, bore very easily.
But we shall have another opportunity of making acquaintance with theseand some other interesting inhabitants of Shepherd's Inn, and in themean while are keeping Lady Clavering and her friends too long waitingon the door steps of Grosvenor-place.
First they went into the gorgeous dining-room, fitted up, Lady Claveringcouldn't for goodness gracious tell why, in the middle-aged style,"unless," said her good-natured ladyship, laughing, "because me andClavering are middle-aged people;" and here they were offered thecopious remains of the luncheon of which Lady Clavering and Blanche hadjust partaken. When nobody was near, our little Sylphide, who scarcelyate at dinner more than the six grains of rice of Amina, the friend ofthe Ghouls in the Arabian Nights, was most active with her knife andfork, and consumed a very substantial portion of mutton cutlets: inwhich piece of hypocrisy it is believed she resembled other young ladiesof fashion. Pen and his uncle declined the refection, but they admiredthe dining-room with fitting compliments, and pronounced it "verychaste," that being the proper phrase. There were, indeed, high-backedDutch chairs of the seventeenth century; there was a sculptured carvedbuffet of the sixteenth; there was a sideboard robbed out of the carvedwork of a church in the Low Countries, and a large brass cathedrallamp over the round oak table; there were old family portraits fromWardour-street and tapestry from France, bits of armor, double-handedswords and battle-axes made of _carton-pierre_, looking-glasses,statuettes of saints, and Dresden china--nothing, in a word, could bechaster. Behind the dining-room was the library, fitted with busts andbooks all of a size, and wonderful easy chairs, and solemn bronzes inthe severe classic style. Here it was that, guarded by double doors, SirFrancis smoked cigars, and read "Bell's Life in London," and went tosleep after dinner, when he was not smoking over the billiard-table athis clubs, or punting at the gambling-houses in Saint James's.
But what could equal the chaste splendor of the drawing-rooms? thecarpets were so magnificently fluffy that your feet made no more noiseon them than your shadow: on their white ground bloomed roses and tulipsas big as warming-pans: about the room were high chairs and low chairs,bandy-legged chairs, chairs so attenuated that it was a wonder any buta sylph could sit upon them, marqueterie-tables covered with marvelousgimcracks, china ornaments of all ages and countries, bronzes, giltdaggers, Books of Beauty, yataghans, Turkish papooshes and boxes ofParisian bonbons. Wherever you sate down there were Dresden shepherdsand shepherdesses convenient at your elbow; there were, moreover, lightblue poodles and ducks and cocks and hens in porcelain; there werenymphs by Boucher, and shepherdesses by Greuze, very chaste indeed;there were muslin curtains and brocade curtains, gilt cages withparroquets and love birds, two squealing cockatoos, each out-squealingand out-chattering the other; a clock singing tunes on a console-table,and another booming the hours like Great Tom, on the mantle-piece--therewas, in a word, every thing that comfort could desire, and the mostelegant taste devise. A London drawing-room, fitted up without regardto expense, is surely one of the noblest and most curious sights of thepresent day. The Romans of the Lower Empire, the dear marchionessesand countesses of Louis XV., could scarcely have had a finer tastethan our modern folks exhibit; and every body who saw Lady Clavering'sreception-rooms, was forced to confess that they were most elegant; andthat the prettiest rooms in London--Lady Harley Quin's, Lady HanwayWardour's, or Mrs. Hodge-Podgson's own, the great Railroad Croesus'wife, were not fitted up with a more consummate "chastity."
Poor Lady Clavering, meanwhile, knew little regarding these things, andhad a sad want of respect for the splendors around her. "I only knowthey cost a precious deal of money, major," she said to her guest, "andthat I don't advise you to try one of them gossamer gilt chairs: I camedown on one the night we gave our second dinner party. Why didn't youcome and see us before? We'd have asked you to it."
"You would have liked to see mamma break a chair, wouldn't you, Mr.Pendennis?" dear Blanche said, with a sneer. She was angry because Penwas talking and laughing with mamma, because mamma had made a number ofblunders in describing the house--for a hundred other good reasons.
"I should like to have been by to give Lady Clavering my arm if she hadneed of it," Pen answered, with a bow and a blush.
"_Quel preux chevalier!_" cried the Sylphide, tossing up her littlehead.
"I have a fellow-feeling with those who fall, remember," Pen said. "Isuffered myself very much from doing so once."
"And you went home to Laura to console you," said Miss Amory.
Pen winced. He did not like the remembrance of the consolation whichLaura had given to him, nor was he very well pleased to find that hisrebuff in that quarter was known to the world; so as he had nothing tosay in reply, he began to be immensely interested in the furniture roundabout him, and to praise Lady Clavering's taste with all his might.
"Me, don't praise me," said honest Lady Clavering, "it's all theupholsterer's doings and Captain Strong's, they did it all while we wasat the Park--and--and--Lady Rockminster has been here and says thesalongs are very well," said Lady Clavering, with an air and tone ofgreat deference.
"My cousin Laura has been staying with her," Pen said.
"It's not the dowager: it is _the_ Lady Rockminster."
"Indeed!" cried Major Pendennis, when he heard this great name offashion "if you have her ladyship's approval, Lady Clavering, you cannot be far wrong. No, no, you can not be far wrong. Lady Rockminster,I should say, Arthur, is the very center of the circle of fashion andtaste. The rooms _are_ beautiful, indeed!" and the major's voice hushedas he spoke of this great lady, and he looked round and surveyed theapartments awfully and respectfully, as if he had been at church.
"Yes, Lady Rockminster has took us up," said Lady Clavering.
"Taken us up, mamma," cried Blanche, in a shrill voice.
"Well, taken us up, then," said my lady; "it's very kind of her, andI dare say we shall like it when we git used to it, only at first onedon't fancy being took--well, taken up, at all. She is going to give ourballs for us; and wants to invite all our dinners. But I won't standthat. I will have my old friends and I won't let her send all the cardsout, and sit mum at the head of my own table. You must come to me,Arthur, and major--come, let me see, on the 14th. It ain't one of ourgrand dinners, Blanche," she said, looking round at her daughter, whobit her lips and frowned very savagely for a Sylphide.
The major, with a smile and a bow, said he would much rather come to aquiet meeting than to a grand dinner. He had had enough of those largeentertainments, and preferred the simplicity of the home circle.
"I always think a dinner's the best the second day," said Lady Clavering,thinking to mend her first speech. "On the 14th we'll be quite a snuglittle party;" at which second blunder, Miss Blanche clasped her handsin despair, and said, "O, mamma, _vous etes incorrigible_." MajorPendennis vowed that he liked snug dinners of all things in the world,and confounded her ladyship's impudence for daring to ask such a man as_him_ to a second day's dinner. But he was a man of an economical turnof mind, and bethinking himself that he could throw over these people ifany thing better should offer, he accepted with the blandest air. As forPen, he was not a diner-out of thirty years' standing as yet, and theidea of a fine feast in a fine house was still perfectly welcome to him.
"What was that pretty little quarrel which engaged itself between yourworship and Miss Amory?" the major asked of Pen, as they walked awaytogether. "I thought you used to be _au mieux_ in that quarter."
"Used to be," answered Pen, with a dandified air, "is a vague phraseregarding a woman. Was and is are two very different terms, sir, asregards women's hearts especially."
"Egad, they change
as we do," cried the elder. "When we took the Cape ofGood Hope, I recollect there was a lady who talked of poisoning herselffor your humble servant; and, begad, in three months, she ran away fromher husband with somebody else. Don't get yourself entangled with thatMiss Amory. She is forward, affected, and underbred; and her characteris somewhat--never mind what. But don't think of her; ten thousand poundwon't do for you. What, my good follow, is ten thousand pound? I wouldscarcely pay that girl's milliner's bill with the interest of themoney."
"You seem to be a connoisseur in millinery, uncle," Pen said.
"I was, sir, I was," replied the senior; "and the old war-horse, youknow, never hears the sound of a trumpet, but he begins to he, he!--youunderstand;" and he gave a killing though somewhat superannuated leerand bow to a carriage that passed them, and entered the Park.
"Lady Catherine Martingale's carriage," he said; "mons'ous finegirls the daughters, though, gad, I remember their mother a thousandtimes handsomer. No, Arthur, my dear fellow, with your person andexpectations, you ought to make a good coup in marriage some day orother; and though I wouldn't have this repeated at Fairoaks, you rogue,ha! ha! a reputation for a little wickedness, and for being an _hommedangereux_, don't hurt a young fellow with the women. They like it,sir--they hate a milksop ... young men must be young men, you know. Butfor marriage," continued the veteran moralist, "that is a very differentmatter. Marry a woman with money. I've told you before, it is as easy toget a rich wife as a poor one; and a doosed deal more comfortable to sitdown to a well-cooked dinner, with your little entrees nicely served,than to have nothing but a damned cold leg of mutton between you andyour wife. We shall have a good dinner on the 14th, when we dine withSir Francis Clavering: stick to that, my boy, in your relations with thefamily. Cultivate 'em, but keep 'em for dining. No more of your youthfulfollies and nonsense about love in a cottage."
"It must be a cottage with a double coach-house, a cottage of gentility,sir," said Pen, quoting the hackneyed ballad of the Devil's Walk:but his uncle did not know that poem (though, perhaps, he might beleading Pen upon the very promenade in question), and went on with hisphilosophical remarks, very much pleased with the aptness of the pupilto whom he addressed them. Indeed Arthur Pendennis was a clever fellow,who took his color very readily from his neighbor, and found theadaptation only too easy.
Warrington, the grumbler, growled out that Pen was becoming such apuppy, that soon there would be no bearing him. But the truth is, theyoung man's success and dashing manners pleased his elder companion. Heliked to see Pen gay and spirited, and brimful of health, and life, andhope; as a man who has long since left off being amused with clown andharlequin, still gets a pleasure in watching a child at a pantomime.Mr. Pen's former sulkiness disappeared with his better fortune: and hebloomed as the sun began to shine upon him.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
IN WHICH COLONEL ALTAMONT APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS.
On the day appointed, Major Pendennis, who had formed no betterengagement, and Arthur, who desired none, arrived together to dine withSir Francis Clavering. The only tenants of the drawing-room when Penand his uncle reached it, were Sir Francis and his wife, and our friendCaptain Strong, whom Arthur was very glad to see, though the majorlooked very sulkily at Strong, being by no means well pleased to sitdown to dinner with Clavering's d----d house-steward, as he irreverentlycalled Strong. But Mr. Welbore Welbore, Clavering's country neighbor andbrother member of Parliament, speedily arriving, Pendennis the elder wassomewhat appeased, for Welbore, though perfectly dull, and taking nomore part in the conversation at dinner than the footman behind hischair, was a respectable country gentleman of ancient family and seventhousand a year; and the major felt always at ease in such society. Tothese were added other persons of note: the Dowager Lady Rockminster,who had her reasons for being well with the Clavering family, and theLady Agnes Foker, with her son Mr. Harry, our old acquaintance. Mr.Pynsent could not come, his parliamentary duties keeping him at theHouse, duties which sate upon the two other senators very lightly. MissBlanche Amory was the last of the company who made her appearance. Shewas dressed in a killing white silk dress, which displayed her pearlyshoulders to the utmost advantage. Foker whispered to Pen, who regardedher with eyes of evident admiration, that he considered her "a stunner."She chose to be very gracious to Arthur upon this day, and held out herhand most cordially, and talked about dear Fairoaks, and asked fordear Laura and his mother, and said she was longing to go back to thecountry, and in fact, was entirely simple, affectionate, and artless.
Harry Foker thought he had never seen any body so amiable anddelightful. Not accustomed much to the society of ladies, and ordinarilybeing dumb in their presence, he found that he could speak before MissAmory, and became uncommonly lively and talkative, even before thedinner was announced and the party descended to the lower rooms. Hewould have longed to give his arm to the fair Blanche, and conduct herdown the broad carpeted stair; but she fell to the lot of Pen upon thisoccasion, Mr. Foker being appointed to escort Mrs. Welbore Welbore, inconsequence of his superior rank as an earl's grandson.
But though he was separated from the object of his desire during thepassage down stairs, the delighted Foker found himself by Miss Amory'sside at the dinner-table, and flattered himself that he had maneuveredvery well in securing that happy place. It may be that the move was nothis, but that it was made by another person. Blanche had thus the twoyoung men, one on each side of her, and each tried to render himselfgallant and agreeable.
Foker's mamma, from her place, surveying her darling boy, was surprisedat his vivacity. Harry talked constantly to his fair neighbor about thetopics of the day.
"Seen Taglioni in the Sylphide, Miss Amory? Bring me that souprame ofVolile again, if you please (this was addressed to the attendant nearhim), very good: can't think where the souprames come from; what becomesof the legs of the fowls, I wonder? She's clipping in the Sylphide,ain't she?" and he began very kindly to hum the pretty air whichpervades that prettiest of all ballets, now faded into the past withthat most beautiful and gracious of all dancers? Will the young folksever see any thing so charming, any thing so classic, any thing likeTaglioni?
"Miss Amory is a Sylph herself," said Mr. Pen.
"What a delightful tenor voice you have, Mr. Foker," said the younglady. "I am sure you have been well taught. I sing a little myself;I should like to sing with you."
Pen remembered that words very similar had been addressed to himself bythe young lady, and that she had liked to sing with him in former days.And sneering within himself, he wondered with how many other gentlemenshe had sung duets since his time? But he did not think fit to put thisawkward question aloud; and only said, with the very tenderest air whichhe could assume, "I should like to hear you sing again, Miss Blanche.I never heard a voice I liked so well as yours, I think."
"I thought you liked Laura's," said Miss Blanche.
"Laura's is a contralto: and that voice is very often out, you know,"Pen said, bitterly. "I have heard a great deal of music in London," hecontinued. "I'm tired of those professional people--they sing too loud,or I have grown too old or too blase. One grows old very soon in London,Miss Amory. And like all old fellows, I only care for the songs I heardin my youth."
"I like English music best. I don't care for foreign songs much. Get mesome saddle of mutton," said Mr. Foker.
"I adore English ballads, of all things," said Miss Amory.
"Sing me one of the old songs after dinner, will you?" said Pen, with animploring voice.
"Shall I sing you an English song after dinner?" asked the Sylphide,turning to Mr. Foker. "I will, if you will promise to come up soon," andshe gave him a perfect broadside of her eyes.
"_I'll_ come up after dinner, fast enough," he said, simply. "I don'tcare about much wine afterward--I take my whack at dinner--I mean myshare, you know; and when I have had as much as I want I toddle up totea. I'm a domestic character, Miss Amory--my habits are simple--andwhen I'm pleased I'm generally in a good humor, ain't I,
Pen?--thatjelly, if you please--not that one, the other with the cherries inside.How the doose _do_ they get those cherries inside the jellies?" In thisway the artless youth prattled on; and Miss Amory listened to him withinexhaustible good humor. When the ladies took their departure for theupper regions, Blanche made the two young men promise faithfully to quitthe table soon, and departed with kind glances to each. She dropped hergloves on Foker's side of the table, and her handkerchief on Pen's. Eachhad some little attention paid to him: her politeness to Mr. Foker wasperhaps a little more encouraging than her kindness to Arthur; but thebenevolent little creature did her best to make both the gentlemenhappy. Foker caught her last glance as she rushed out of the door; thatbright look passed over Mr. Strong's broad white waistcoat, and shotstraight at Harry Foker's. The door closed on the charmer: he sate downwith a sigh, and swallowed a bumper of claret.
* * * * *
As the dinner at which Pen and his uncle took their places was not oneof our grand parties, it had been served at a considerably earlier hourthan those ceremonial banquets of the London season, which custom hasordained shall scarcely take place before nine o'clock; and, the companybeing small, and Miss Blanche anxious to betake herself to her piano inthe drawing-room, giving constant hints to her mother to retreat--LadyClavering made that signal very speedily, so that it was quitedaylight yet when the ladies reached the upper apartments, from theflower-embroidered balconies of which they could command a view of thetwo parks, of the poor couples and children still sauntering in the one,and of the equipages of ladies and the horses of dandies passing throughthe arch of the other. The sun, in a word, had not set behind the elmsof Kensington Gardens, and was still gilding the statue erected by theladies of England in honor of his grace the Duke of Wellington, whenLady Clavering and her female friends left the gentlemen drinking wine.
The windows of the dining-room were opened to let in the fresh air,and afforded to the passers-by in the street a pleasant, or, perhaps,tantalizing view of six gentlemen in white waistcoats, with a quantityof decanters and a variety of fruits before them--little boys, as theypassed and jumped up at the area-railings, and took a peep, said to oneanother, "Mi hi, Jim, shouldn't you like to be there, and have a cut ofthat there pine-apple?"--the horses and carriages of the nobility andgentry passed by, conveying them to Belgravian toilets: the policeman,with clamping feet, patrolled up and down before the mansion: the shadesof evening began to fall: the gas-man came and lighted the lamps beforeSir Francis's door: the butler entered the dining-room, and illuminatedthe antique Gothic chandelier over the antique carved oak dining-table:so that from outside the house you looked inward upon a night scene offeasting and wax candles; and from within you beheld a vision of a calmsummer evening, and the wall of St. James's Park, and the sky above, inwhich a star or two was just beginning to twinkle.
Jeames, with folded legs, leaning against the door-pillar of hismaster's abode, looked forth musingly upon the latter tranquil sight;while a spectator, clinging to the railings, examined the former scene.Policeman X passing, gave his attention to neither, but fixed it uponthe individual holding by the railings, and gazing into Sir FrancisClavering's dining-room, where Strong was laughing and talking away,making the conversation for the party.
The man at the railings was very gorgeously attired with chains,jewelry, and waistcoats, which the illumination from the house lightedup to great advantage; his boots were shiny; he had brass buttons to hiscoat, and large white wristbands over his knuckles; and indeed looked sogrand, that X imagined he beheld a member of parliament, or a personof consideration before him. Whatever his rank, however, the M.P.,or person of consideration, was considerably excited by wine; for helurched and reeled somewhat in his gait, and his hat was cocked overhis wild and blood-shot eyes in a manner which no sober hat ever couldassume. His copious black hair was evidently surreptitious, and hiswhiskers of the Tyrian purple.
As Strong's laughter, following after one of his own _gros mots_, cameringing out of window, this gentleman without laughed and sniggeredin the queerest way likewise, and he slapped his thigh, and winked atJeames pensive in the portico, as much as to say, "Plush, my boy, isn'tthat a good story?"
Jeames's attention had been gradually drawn from the moon in theheavens to this sublunary scene; and he was puzzled and alarmed bythe appearance of the man in shiny boots. "A holtercation," he remarkedafterward in the servants'-hall--a "holtercation with a feller in thestreets is never no good; and indeed he was not hired for any suchpurpose." So, having surveyed the man for some time, who went onlaughing, reeling, nodding his head with tipsy knowingness, Jeameslooked out of the portico, and softly called "Pleaceman," and beckonedto that officer.
X marched up resolute, with one Berlin glove stuck in his belt-side,and Jeames simply pointed with his index finger to the individualwho was laughing against the railings. Not one single word more than"Pleaceman," did he say, but stood there in the calm summer evening,pointing calmly: a grand sight.
X advanced to the individual and said, "Now, sir, will you have thekindness to move hon?"
The individual, who was in perfect good humor, did not appear to hearone word which Policeman X uttered, but nodded and waggled his grinninghead at Strong, until his hat almost fell from his head over the arearailings.
"Now, sir, move on, do you hear?" cries X, in a much more peremptorytone, and he touched the stranger gently with one of the fingersinclosed in the gauntlets of the Berlin woof.
He of the many rings instantly started, or rather staggered back, intowhat is called an attitude of self-defense, and in that position beganthe operation which is entitled "squaring" at Policeman X, and showedhimself brave and warlike, if unsteady. "Hullo! keep your hands off agentleman," he said, with an oath which need not be repeated.
"Move on out of this," said X, "and don't be a blocking up the pavement,staring into gentlemen's dining-rooms."
"Not stare--ho, ho!--not stare--that is a good one," replied the other,with a satiric laugh and sneer. "Who's to prevent me from staring,looking at my friends, if I like? not you, old highlows."
"Friends! I dessay. Move on," answered X.
"If you touch me, I'll pitch into you, I will," roared the other. "Itell you I know 'em all--that's Sir Francis Clavering, Baronet, M.P.--Iknow him, and he knows me--and that's Strong, and that's the young chapthat made the row at the ball. I say, Strong, Strong!"
"It's that d---- Altamont," cried Sir Francis within, with a start and aguilty look; and Strong also, with a look of annoyance, got up from thetable, and ran out to the intruder.
A gentleman in a white waistcoat, running out from a dining-roombare-headed, a policeman, and an individual decently attired, engaged inalmost fistycuffs on the pavement, were enough to make a crowd, even inthat quiet neighborhood, at half-past eight o'clock in the evening, anda small mob began to assemble before Sir Francis Clavering's door. "ForGod's sake, come in," Strong said, seizing his acquaintance's arm. "Sendfor a cab, James, if you please," he added, in an under voice to thatdomestic; and carrying the excited gentleman out of the street, the outerdoor was closed upon him, and the small crowd began to move away.
Mr. Strong had intended to convey the stranger into Sir Francis'sprivate sitting-room, where the hats of the male guests were awaitingthem, and having there soothed his friend by bland conversation, to havecarried him off as soon as the cab arrived; but the new comer was in agreat state of wrath at the indignity which had been put upon him, andwhen Strong would have led him into the second door, said, in a tipsyvoice, "_That_ ain't the door: that's the dining-room door, where thedrink's going on: and I'll go and have some, by Jove; I'll go and havesome." At this audacity the butler stood aghast in the hall, and placedhimself before the door: but it opened behind him, and the master of thehouse made his appearance, with anxious looks.
"I _will_ have some--by ---- I will," the intruder was roaring out, asSir Francis came forward. "Hullo! Clavering, I say I'm come to have somewine with
you; hay! old boy--hay! old corkscrew? Get us a bottle of theyellow seal, you old thief: the very best--a hundred rupees a dozen, andno mistake."
The host reflected a moment over his company. There is only Welbore,Pendennis, and those two lads, he thought; and with a forced laugh and apiteous look, he said, "Well, Altamont, come in. I am very glad to seeyou, I'm sure."
Colonel Altamont, for the intelligent reader has doubtless long ere thisdiscovered in the stranger His Excellency the Embassador of the Nawaubof Lucknow, reeled into the dining-room, with a triumphant look towardJeames, the footman, which seemed to say, "There, sir, what do you thinkof that? _Now_, am I a gentleman or no?" and sank down into the firstvacant chair. Sir Francis Clavering timidly stammered out the colonel'sname to his guest Mr. Welbore Welbore, and his excellency began drinkingwine forthwith, and gazing round upon the company, now with the mostwonderful frowns, and anon with the blandest smiles, and hiccuppedremarks encomiastic of the drink which he was imbibing.
"Very singular man. Has resided long in a native court in India,"Strong said, with great gravity, the chevalier's presence of mind neverdeserting him; "in those Indian courts they get very singular habits."
"Very," said Major Pendennis, dryly, and wondering what in goodness'name was the company into which he had got.
Mr. Foker was pleased with the new comer. "It's the man who would singthe Malay song at the Back-Kitchen," he whispered to Pen. "Try thispine, sir," he then said to Colonel Altamont; "it's uncommonly fine."
"Pines! I've seen 'em feed pigs on pines," said the colonel.
"All the Nawaub of Lucknow's pigs are fed on pines," Strong whispered toMajor Pendennis.
"O, of course," the major answered. Sir Francis Clavering was, in themean while, endeavoring to make an excuse to his brother guest, for thenew comer's condition, and muttered something regarding Altamont, thathe was an extraordinary character, very eccentric, very--had Indianhabits--didn't understand the rules of English society; to which oldWelbore, a shrewd old gentleman, who drank his wine with greatregularity, said, "that seemed pretty clear."
Then the colonel seeing Pen's honest face, regarded it for a while withas much steadiness as became his condition, and said, "I know you, too,young fellow. I remember you. Baymouth ball, by Jingo. Wanted to fightthe Frenchman. _I_ remember you;" and he laughed, and he squared withhis fists, and seemed hugely amused in the drunken depths of his mind,as these recollections passed, or, rather, reeled across it.
"Mr. Pendennis, you remember Colonel Altamont, at Baymouth?" Strongsaid; upon which Pen, bowing rather stiffly, said, "he had the pleasureof remembering that circumstance perfectly."
"_What's_ his name?" cried the colonel. Strong named Mr. Pendennisagain.
"Pendennis!--Pendennis be hanged!" Altamont roared out, to the surpriseof every one, and thumping with his fist on the table.
"My name is also Pendennis, sir," said the major, whose dignity wasexceedingly mortified by the evening's events--that he, Major Pendennis,should have been asked to such a party, and that a drunken man shouldhave been introduced to it. "My name is Pendennis, and I will be obligedto you not to curse it too loudly."
The tipsy man turned round to look at him, and as he looked, it appearedas if Colonel Altamont suddenly grew sober. He put his hand across hisforehead, and in doing so, displaced somewhat the black wig which hewore; and his eyes stared fiercely at the major, who, in his turn, likea resolute old warrior as he was, looked at his opponent very keenly andsteadily. At the end of the mutual inspection, Altamont began to buttonup his brass-buttoned coat, and rising up from his chair, suddenly,and to the company's astonishment, reeled toward the door, and issuedfrom it, followed by Strong: all that the latter heard him utter was,"Captain Beak! Captain Beak, by jingo!"
There had not passed above a quarter of an hour from his strangeappearance to his equally sudden departure. The two young men andthe baronet's other guest wondered at the scene, and could find noexplanation for it. Clavering seemed exceeding pale and agitated, andturned with looks of almost terror toward Major Pendennis. The latterhad been eying his host keenly for a moment or two. "Do you know him?"asked Sir Francis of the major.
"I am sure I have seen the fellow," the major replied, looking as ifhe, too, was puzzled. "Yes, I have it. He was a deserter from the HorseArtillery who got into the Nawaub's service. I remember his face quitewell."
"Oh!" said Clavering, with a sigh which indicated immense relief ofmind, and the major looked at him with a twinkle of his sharp old eyes.The cab which Strong had desired to be called, drove away with thechevalier and Colonel Altamont; coffee was brought to the remaininggentlemen, and they went up-stairs to the ladies in the drawing-room,Foker declaring confidentially to Pen that "this was the rummest go heever saw," which decision Pen said, laughing, "showed great discriminationon Mr. Foker's part."
Then, according to her promise, Miss Amory made music for the young men.Foker was enraptured with her performance, and kindly joined in theairs which she sang, when he happened to be acquainted with them. Penaffected to talk aside with others of the party, but Blanche brought himquickly to the piano, by singing some of his own words, those which wehave given in a previous number, indeed, and which the Sylphide hadherself, she said, set to music. I don't know whether the air was hers,or how much of it was arranged for her by Signor Twankidillo, from whomshe took lessons; but good or bad, original or otherwise, it delightedMr. Pen, who remained by her side, and turned the leaves now for hermost assiduously. "Gad! how I wish I could write verses like you, Pen,"Foker sighed afterward to his companion. "If I could do 'em, wouldn't I,that's all? But I never was a dab at writing, you see, and I'm sorry Iwas so idle when I was at school."
No mention was made before the ladies of the curious little scene whichhad been transacted below stairs; although Pen was just on the point ofdescribing it to Miss Amory, when that young lady inquired for CaptainStrong, who she wished should join her in a duet. But chancing to lookup toward Sir Francis Clavering, Arthur saw a peculiar expression ofalarm in the baronet's ordinarily vacuous face, and discreetly heldhis tongue. It was rather a dull evening. Welbore went to sleep, as healways did at music and after dinner: nor did Major Pendennis entertainthe ladies with copious anecdotes and endless little scandalous stories,as his wont was, but sat silent for the most part, and appeared to belistening to the music, and watching the fair young performer.
The hour of departure having arrived, the major rose, regretting that sodelightful an evening should have passed away so quickly, and addresseda particularly fine compliment to Miss Amory upon her splendid talentsas a singer. "Your daughter, Lady Clavering," he said to that lady,"is a perfect nightingale--a perfect nightingale, begad! I have scarcelyever heard any thing equal to her, and her pronunciation of everylanguage--begad! of every language--seems to me to be perfect; and thebest houses in London must open before a young lady who has suchtalents, and, allow an old fellow to say, Miss Amory, such a face."
Blanche was as much astonished by these compliments as Pen was to whomhis uncle, a little time since, had been speaking in very disparagingterms of the Sylph. The major and the two young men walked hometogether, after Mr. Foker had placed his mother in her carriage, andprocured a light for an enormous cigar.
The young gentleman's company or his tobacco did not appear to beagreeable to Major Pendennis, who eyed him askance several times, andwith a look which plainly indicated that he wished Mr. Foker wouldtake his leave; but Foker hung on resolutely to the uncle and nephew,even until they came to the former's door in Bury-street, where themajor wished the lads good-night.
"And I say, Pen," he said, in a confidential whisper, calling his nephewback, "mind you make a point of calling in Grosvenor-place to-morrow.They've been uncommonly civil: mons'ously civil and kind."
Pen promised and wondered, and the major's door having been closed uponhim by Morgan, Foker took Pen's arm, and walked with him for some timesilently, puffing his cigar. At last, when they had reached CharingCross
on Arthur's way home to the Temple, Harry Foker relieved himself,and broke out with that eulogium upon poetry, and those regretsregarding a misspent youth which have just been mentioned. And all theway along the Strand, and up to the door of Pen's very staircase, inLamb-court, Temple, young Harry Foker did not cease to speak aboutsinging and Blanche Amory.
END OF VOL. 1.
A History of Pendennis, Volume 1 Page 40
