“Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre ofbarren ground.... The wills above be done! but I wouldfain die a dry death.”“I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hathno drowning mark upon him.”—Tempest.
THE wind, which we had observed was rising when we landed, had increased during our stay at the inn, and was now blowing almost a gale from the south-west; whilst the sea, which we had left smooth as a lake, was rolling in and breaking on the beach in somewhat formidable waves.
“I tell you what,” said Coleman, as soon as he had observed the state of affairs, “I won't attempt to steer in such a sea as that; it requires great skill and judgment, besides a stronger hand than mine, to keep theboat's head right; if I were to let her turn her broadside to one of those waves, it would be a case of 'Found drowned' with some of us, before long.”
“What's to be done, then?” inquired Oaklands. “I am sure I can't do it: it's a thing I'm quite ignorant of; all my boating having been on the river.”
“Let's hire one of those amphibious beggars out there to steer for us,” proposed Lawless, pointing to a group of fishermen who were lounging round an old boat, not far from where we stood; “they're up to all the right dodges, you may depend. Here, my men! which of you will earn half a guinea by steering our boat for us to Helmstone?”
“I wouldn't, master, for ten times the money,” replied an old weather-beaten boatman, in a tarpaulin hat; “and if you'll take an old man's advice, gentlemen, you'll none of you venture out in that cockle-shell this afternoon; the wind's getting up every minute, and we shall have a rough night of it.”
“Nonsense,” replied Lawless; “I've often been out in worse weather than this. Are you, all of you, frightened by that old woman's croaking?” continued he, turning to the group of men.
“He's no old woman,” replied a sturdy fellow, in a rough pea-jacket; “he's been a better sailor than ever you'll be, and he's right now too,” he added. “It's as much as a man's life is worth to go to sea in that bit of a thing, with the waves running in as they do now—and with such a set of landlubbers as them for a crew,” he muttered, turning away.
“Suppose we try and get something to take us home by land,” suggested Oaklands; “and leave the boat for some of these good fellows to bring home, as soon as the weather will allow.”
“You'll have to walk, sir,” replied one of them, civilly; “I don't believe there's a cart or horse in the place; they all went inland this morning with fish, and won't return till to-morrow.”
“There, you hear that,” said Lawless, who had just drunk enough to render him captious and obstinate. “I'm not going to walk to please anybody's fancy; I see how it is,—I did not bid high enough. A couple of guineas for any one who will come with us,” added he.
“A couple of guineas is not to be got every day,” observed a sullen, downcast-looking man, who had not yet spoken; “and it is not much odds to me whether I sink or swim now; those custom-house sharks,” added he, with an oath, “look so close after one, that one can'tdo a stroke of work that will pay a fellow nowadays. Money down, and I'm your man, sir,” he added, turning to Lawless.
“That's the ticket,” said Lawless, handing him the money. “I'm glad to see one of you, at least, has got a little pluck about him. Come along.”
I could see that Oaklands did not at all approve of the plan, evidently considering we were running a foolish risk; but, as nothing short of a direct quarrel with Lawless could have prevented it, his habitual indolence and easy temper prevailed, and he remained silent. I felt much inclined to object, in which case I had little doubt the majority of the party would have supported me; but a boyish dread, lest my refusal should be attributed to cowardice, prevented my doing so. With the assistance of the by-standers we contrived to launch our little bark without further misadventure than a rather heavier sprinkling of salt water than was agreeable. Rowing in such a sea, however, proved much harder work than I, for one, had any idea of; we made scarcely any way against the waves, and I soon felt sure that it would be utterly impossible for us to reach Helmstone by any exertions we were capable of making. The weather too was becoming worse every minute: it rained heavily, and it was with the greatest difficulty we were able to prevent the crests of some of the larger waves from dashing into our boat; in fact, as it was, she was already half full of water, which poured in faster than Coleman (who was the only person not otherwise engaged) could bale it out.
“Upon my word, Lawless, it's madness to attempt to go on,” exclaimed Oaklands; “we are throwing away our lives for nothing.”
“It certainly looks rather queerish,” replied Lawless. “What do you say about it, my man?” he asked of the person whom he had engaged to steer us.
“I say,” replied the fellow in a surly tone, “that our only chance is to make for the beach at once, and we shall have better luck than we deserve, if we reach it alive.”
As he spoke a larger wave than usual broke against the bow of the boat, flinging in such a body of water that we felt her stagger under it, and I believed, for a moment, that we were about to sink. This decided the question; the boat's head was put about with some difficulty, and we were soon straining every nerve to reach the shore. As we neared the beach we perceived that even duringthe short time which had elapsed since we quitted it, the sea had become considerably rougher, and the line of surf now presented anything but an encouraging appearance. As we approached the breakers the steersman desired us to back with our oars till he saw a favourable opportunity; and the moment he gave us the signal to pull in as hard as we were able. After a short pause the signal was given, and we attempted to pull in as he had directed; but, in doing this, we did not act exactly in concert—Lawless taking his stroke too soon, while Mullins did not make his soon enough; consequently, we missed the precise moment, the boat turned broadside to the beach, a wave poured over us, and in another instant we were struggling in the breakers. For my own part, I succeeded in gaining my legs, only to be thrown off them again by the next wave, which hurried me along with it, and flung me on the shingle, when one of the group of fishermen who had witnessed the catastrophe ran in, and seizing me by the arm, in time to prevent my being washed back again by the under-tow, dragged me out of the reach of the waves.
On recovering my feet my first impulse was to look round for my companions. I at once perceived Lawless, Mullins, and Oaklands, who were apparently uninjured, though the latter held his hand pressed against his forehead, as if in pain; but Coleman was nowhere to be seen. “Where is Coleman?” exclaimed I.
“There is some one clinging to the boat still,” observed a by-stander.
I looked anxiously in the direction indicated, and perceived the boat floating bottom upwards, just beyond the line of breakers; while, clinging to the keel, was a figure which I instantly recognised to be that of Coleman. “Oh, save him, save him; he will be drowned!” cried I, in an agony of fear.
“Ten guineas for any one who will get him out!” shouted Lawless; but nobody seemed inclined to stir.
“Give me a rope,” cried I, seizing the end of a coil which one of the boatmen had over his shoulder, and tying it round my waist.
“What are you going to do?” asked Lawless.
While he spoke a large wave separated Coleman from the boat, and, as it poured its huge volume upon the beach, bore him along with it. With the swiftness of thought I sprang forward, and succeeded in throwing my arms round him, ere the next advancing wave dashed over us. And now my foresight in fastening the ropearound me proved, under Providence, the means of saving both our lives. Though thrown to the ground by the force of the water I contrived to retain my grasp of Coleman, and we were hauled up and conveyed beyond the reach of the surf by the strong arms of those on shore, ere another wave could approach to claim its victims.
Page104 Frank Rescues Coleman
On recovering my consciousness (I had been partially stunned by the violence of my last fall) I found myself lying on the beach, with my head resting on the breast of Oaklands.
“My dear, dear Frank, thank God that you are safe!” exclaimed he, pressing me more closely to him.
“What of Coleman?” asked I, endeavouring to raise myself.
“They are taking him to the inn,” was the reply; “I will go and see if I can be of any use, now I know you are unhurt; but I could not leave you till I felt sure of that.”
“I fancied you seemed in pain just now,” said I.
“I struck my head against some part of the boat when she capsized,” returned Oaklands, “and the blow stunned me for a minute or two, so that I knew nothing of what was going on till I saw you rush into the water to save Coleman; that roused me effectually, and I helped them to pull you both out. Frank, you have saved his life.”
“If it is saved,” rejoined I. “Let us go and see how he is getting on; I think I can walk now, if you will let me lean upon your arm.”
With the assistance of Oaklands I contrived to reach the inn without much difficulty; indeed, by the time I got there (the walk having served in great measure to restore my circulation) I scarcely felt any ill effects from my late exertions. The inn presented a rare scene of confusion: people were hurrying in and out, the messenger sent for the doctor had just returned, breathless, to say he was not to be found; the fat landlady, in a state of the greatest excitement, was trotting about making impracticable suggestions, to which no one paid the slightest attention, while Coleman, still insensible, lay wrapped in blankets before a blazing fire in the parlour, with the pretty barmaid on her knees beside him sobbing piteously, as she chafed his temples with some strong essence.
“That's the time of day!” exclaimed Lawless, as his eye fell upon a printed card which the landlady had just thrust into his hand, headed, “The directions of the Humane Society for the restoration of persons apparently drowned”. “We shall have it now all right,” added he, and then read as follows: “The first observation wemust make, which is most important, is, that rolling the body on a tub—”
“Bring a tub,” cried the landlady eagerly, and off started several of the by-standers to follow her injunctions—
“Is most injurious,” continued Lawless; “but holding up by the legs with the head downwards”—(a party of volunteers, commanded by the landlady, rushed forward to obtain possession of Coleman's legs)—“is certain death,” shouted Lawless, concluding the sentence.
While this was going on I had been rubbing Coleman's hands between my own, in the hope of restoring circulation; and now, to my extreme delight, I perceived a slight pulsation at the wrist; next came a deep sigh, followed by a tremulous motion of the limbs; and, before five minutes were over, he was sufficiently restored to sit up, and recognise those about him. After this, his recovery progressed with such rapidity that ere half an hour had elapsed he was able to listen with interest to Oaklands' account of the circumstances attending his rescue, when Lawless, hastily entering the room, exclaimed: “Here's a slice of good luck, at all events; there's a post-chaise just stopped, returning to Helmstone, and the boy agrees to take us all for a shilling a head, as soon as he has done watering his horses. How is Freddy getting on?—will he be able to go?”
“All right, old fellow,” replied Coleman. “Thanks to Fairlegh in the first instance, and a stiff glass of brandy-and-water in the second, 'Richard's himself again!'”
“Well, you've had a near shave for it this time, however,” said Lawless; “there is more truth than I was aware of in the old proverb, 'If you are born to be hanged, you will never be drowned'; though, if it had not been for Frank Fairlegh, you would not have lived to fulfil your destiny.”
In another ten minutes we were all packed in and about the post-chaise; Coleman, Oaklands, and myself occupying the interior, while Lawless and Mullins rode outside. The promise of an extra half-crown induced the driver to use his best speed. At a quarter before five we were within a stone's-throw of home; and if that day at dinner Mrs. Mildman observed the pale looks and jaded appearance of some of the party, I have every reason to believe she has remained up to the present hour in total ignorance as to their cause.
“The voice which I did more esteemThan music on her sweetest key;Those eyes which unto me did seemMore comfortable than the day;Those now by me, as they have been,Shall never more be heard or seen;But what I once enjoyed in them,Shall seem hereafter as a dream.“All earthly comforts vanish thus;So little hold of them have we;That we from them, or they from us,May in a moment ravished be.Yet we are neither just nor wiseIf present mercies we despise,Or mind not how these may be madeA thankful use of what we had.”—Wither.“Up springs at every step to claim a tearSome youthful friendship form'd and cherish'd here.”—Rogers.“Time flies away fast!The while we never remember—How soon our life hereGrows old with the yearThat dies with the next December.”—Herrick.
AS I was undressing that night Coleman came into my room, and grasping my hand with his own shook it warmly, saying: “I could not go to sleep, Frank, without coming to thank you for the noble way in which you risked your own life to save mine to-day. I laughed it off before Lawless and the rest of the fellows, for when I feel deeply, I hate to show it; but indeed,” (and the tears stood in his eyes while he spoke), “indeed I am not ungrateful.”
“My dear Freddy,” returned I, “do not suppose I thought you so for a moment; there, say no more about it; you would have done the same thing for me that I did for you, had our positions been reversed.”
“I am not so sure of that,” was his reply; “I should have wished to do so; but it is not every one who can act with such promptitude and decision in moments of danger.”
"There is one request I should like to make,” said I.
“What is it?” replied he quickly.
“Do not forget to thank Him, whose instrument I was, for having so mercifully preserved your life.”
A silent pressure of the hand was the only answer, and we parted for the night.
Owing, probably, to over-fatigue, it was some little time before I went to sleep. As I lay courting the fickle goddess (or god as the case may be, for, mythologically speaking, I believe Somnus was ahe), I could not help contrasting my present feelings with those which I had experienced on the first night of my arrival. Then, overcome by the novelty of my situation, filled with a lively dread of my tutor, bullied and despised by my companions, and separated for what I deemed an interminable period from all who were dear to me, my position was far from an enviable one.. Now, how different was the aspect of affairs! With my tutor, who, from an object of dread, had become one of esteem and affection, I had every reason to believe myself a favourite; I was on terms of the closest friendship with those of my companions whose intimacy was best worth cultivating; while with the others I had gained a standing which would effectually prevent their ever venturing seriously to annoy me; and, above all, I had acquired that degree of self-confidence, without which one is alike impotent to choose the good or to refuse the evil. And it was with an honest pride that I reflected, that this improvement in my position was mainly owing to a steady adherence to those principles, which it had been the constant aim of my dear parents to instil into me from my childhood. I fell asleep at last, endeavouring to picture to myself the delight of relating my adventures on my return home; how my mother and sister would shudder over the dangers I had escaped, while my father would applaud the spirit which had carried me through them. The vision was a bright and happy one: would it ever be realised?
To our surprise, we learned the next morning that Dr. Mildman had arrived by the last coach the previous evening, having fortunately met with Cumberland's uncle at his house of business in town, and delivered his nephew into his safe custody without further loss of time. The breakfast passed over without the Doctor making any inquiry how we had amused ourselves during his absence, nor, as may easily be believed, did we volunteer information on the subject. On returning to the pupils' room I found a letter, in my sister's handwriting, lyingon the table. With a feeling of dread for which I could not account, I hastened to peruse it. Alas! the contents only served to realise my worst apprehensions. My father's illness had suddenly assumed a most alarming character, inflammation having attacked the lungs with such violence that the most active measures had failed to subdue it, and the physician, whom my mother had summoned on the first appearance of danger, scarcely held out the slightest hope of his recovery. Under these circumstances my mother wished me to return home without loss of time, as my father, before he became delirious, had desired that I might be sent for, expressing himself most anxious to see me; and the letter concluded with a line in my mother's handwriting, exhorting me to make every exertion to reach home without delay, if I wished to find him alive. For a minute or two I sat with the letter still open in my hand, as if stunned by the intelligence I had received; then, recollecting that every instant was of importance, I sprang up, saying, “Where's Dr. Mildman? I must see him directly.”
“My dear Frank, is anything the matter? you are not ill?” inquired Oaklands anxiously.
“You have received some bad news, I am afraid,” said Coleman.
“My father is very ill, dying perhaps,” replied I, while the tears, which I in vain endeavoured to restrain, trickled down my cheeks. After giving way to my feelings for a minute or two, the necessity for action again flashed across me.
“What time is it now?” inquired I, drying my eyes.
“Just ten,” replied Oaklands, looking at his watch.
“There is a coach which starts at the half-hour, is there not?”
“Yes, the Highflyer, the best drag on the road,” returned Lawless; “takes you to town in five hours, and does the thing well too.”
“I must go by that then,” replied I.
“What can I do to help you?” asked Coleman.
“If you would put a few things into my bag for me, while I speak to the Doctor,” rejoined I.
“I will go and get a fly for you,” said Lawless, “and then I can pick out a nag that will move his pins a bit; that will save you ten minutes, and you have no time to lose.”
On acquainting Dr. Mildman with the sad intelligence I had received, and the necessity which existed for me to depart immediately, he at once gave me his permissionto do so; and, after speaking kindly to me, and showing the deepest sympathy for my distress, said he would not detain me longer, as I must have preparations to make, but should like to see me the last thing before I started, and wish me good-bye.
I found, on reaching my own room, my carpet-bag already packed: Coleman and Thomas (whose honest face wore an expression of genuine commiseration) having exerted themselves to save me all trouble on that head. Nothing, therefore, remained for me to do, but to take leave of my fellow-pupils and Dr. Mildman. After shaking hands with Lawless and Mullins (the former assuring me, as he did so, that I was certain not to be late, for he had succeeded in securing a trap, with a very spicy little nag in it, which would have me there in no time) I hastened to take leave of my tutor. The kindhearted Doctor inquired whether I had sufficient money for my journey, and, begging me to write him word how I got home, shook me warmly by the hand, saying, as he did so, “God bless you, my boy! I trust you may find your father better; but if this should not be the case, remember whose hand it is inflicts the blow, and strive to say, 'Thy will be done'. We shall have you among us again soon, I hope; but should anything prevent your return, I wish you to know that I am perfectly satisfied with the progress you have made in your studies; and, in other respects, you have never given me a moment's uneasiness since you first entered my house. Once more, good-bye; and remember, if ever you should want a friend, you will find one in Samuel Mildman.”
The fly-horse proved itself deserving of Lawless's panegyric, and I arrived at the coach-office in time to secure a seat outside the Highflyer. After taking an affectionate leave of Oaklands and Coleman, who had accompanied me, I ascended to my place; the coachman mounted his box, exactly as the clock chimed the halfhour the horses sprang forward with a bound, and ere ten minutes had elapsed Helmstone lay at least a couple of miles behind us.
I accomplished my journey more quickly than I had deemed possible, and had the melancholy satisfaction of reaching home in time to receive my father's blessing. The powerful remedies to which they had been obliged to have recourse had produced their effect; the inflammation was subdued; but the struggle had been protracted too long, and his constitution, already enfeebled by a life of constant labour and self-denial, was unable to rally.
Having given me a solemn charge to cherish and protect my mother and sister, he commended us all to the care of Him who is emphatically termed “the God of the fatherless and widow”; and then, his only earthly care being ended, he prepared to meet Death, as those alone can do to whom “to die is gain”. When the last beam of the setting sun threw a golden tint around the spire of the little village church those lips which had so often breathed the words of prayer and praise within its sacred walls were mute for ever, and the gentle spirit which animated them had returned to God who gave it!
In regard to this portion of my career, but little more remains to be told. My father's income being chiefly derived from his church preferment, and his charities having been conducted on too liberal a scale to allow of his laying by money, the funds which remained at my mother's disposal after winding up his affairs, though enough to secure us from actual poverty, were not sufficient to allow of my continuing an inmate of an establishment so expensive as that of Dr. Mildman. On being informed of this change of circumstances the Doctor wrote to my mother in the kindest manner; speaking of me in terms of praise which I will not repeat, and inquiring what were her future views in regard to me; expressing his earnest desire to assist them to the utmost of his ability. At the same time I received letters from Oaklands and Coleman full of lamentations that I was not likely to return; and promising, in the warmth of their hearts, that their respective fathers should assist me in all ways, possible and impossible. Mr. Coleman, senior, in particular, was to do most unheard-of things for me; indeed, Freddy more than hinted that through his agency I might consider myself secure of the Attorney-Generalship, with a speedy prospect of becoming Lord Chancellor. I also found enclosed a very characteristic note from Lawless, wherein he stated, that if I really was likely to be obliged to earn my own living, he could put me up to a dodge, by which all the disagreeables of having so to do might be avoided. This infallible recipe proved to be a scheme for my turning stage-coachman! After citing numerous examples of gentlemen who had done so (amongst whom the name of a certain baronet stood forth in high pre-eminence), he wound up by desiring me to give the scheme my serious attention, and, if I agreed to it, to come and spend a month with him when he returned home at midsummer; by the end of which time he would engage to turn me out as finished a “Waggoner” as ever handled the ribbons.
To these letters I despatched suitable replies, thanking the writers for their kindness, but refusing to avail myself of their offers, at all events for the present; and I finished by expressing a hope, that, be my fate in life what it might, I should still preserve the regard and esteem of the friends whose affection I prized so highly.
For some months after my father's death I continued to live at the rectory; Mr. Dalton, the new incumbent, who had been his curate, and was unmarried, kindly allowing my mother to remain there till her plans for the future should be so far arranged as to enable her to determine in what part of the country it would be advisable for her to reside. It had been my father's wish and intention, when I should have attained a fit age, to send me to one of the universities: a wish my mother was most anxious to carry into effect. In order to accomplish this wish with her reduced means, it would have been necessary for her, not only to have practised the strictest economy, but also, in great measure, to have sacrificed my sister's education, as she would have been utterly unable to afford the advantage of masters. To this, of course, I would not consent; after much discussion, therefore, the idea of college was reluctantly given up, and, as a last resource, my mother applied to an uncle of hers, engaged in the West India trade, begging him to endeavour to procure for me a clerkship in some mercantile establishment. She received a very kind reply, saying that, although he considered me too young at present to be chained to a desk, he should advise me to apply myself diligently to the study of French and book-keeping; and ending by offering me a situation in his own counting-house when I should be eighteen. As my only alternative lay between accepting this offer (however little suited to my taste), or remaining a burden upon my mother, it may easily be imagined that I lost no time in signifying my desire to avail myself of his kindness; and, ere a couple of months had elapsed, I had plunged deeply into the mysteries of book-keeping, and could jabber French with tolerable fluency. I was still working away at “Double Entry,” and other horrors of a like nature, when one morning I received a large business-like letter, in an unknown hand, the contents of which astonished me not a little, as well they might; for they proved to be of a nature once more entirely to change my prospects in life. The epistle came from Messrs. Coutts, the bankers, and stated that they were commissioned to pay me the sum of four hundred pounds per annum, in quarterly payments, for the purposeof defraying my expenses at college; the only stipulations being, that the money should be used for the purpose specified, that I did not contract any debts whatsoever, and that I made no inquiries, direct or indirect, as to the source from which the sum proceeded. In the event of my complying with these conditions, the same allowance was to be continued to me till I should have taken my degree.
The immediate consequence of this most unexpected communication was, our devoting the greater part of a morning to vain speculations as to the possible source from which this liberal offer might have proceeded. After guessing every one we could think of, likely or unlikely, we ended, as is usual in such cases, by becoming decidedly more puzzled than when we began. The only person with whom I was acquainted, possessing both the will and the power to do such a thing, was Sir John Oaklands; but he had already, in the kindest manner, tried to persuade my mother to allow me to accompany Harry to Trinity College, Cambridge, begging to be permitted to defray the expenses of my so doing himself; an offer which she (not choosing to place herself under so heavy an obligation to a comparative stranger) had, with many expressions of gratitude, declined. After consulting with our friend Mr. Dalton, it was decided that I should signify to Messrs. Coutts my readiness to comply with the required conditions, begging them to convey my best thanks to my mysterious benefactor, and to inform him that it was my intention (subject to his approval) to enter my name at Trinity without loss of time. In answer to this I received the following laconic epistle:—
“Messrs. Coutts beg to inform Mr. Frank Fairlegh, that, in reply to his favour of the 21st ult., they are desired to state, that the sum of four hundred pounds per annum will be placed at his disposal whenever he applies for it”.
I now resumed my studies under the superintendence of Mr. Dalton, who had taken a good degree at Cambridge; and, alike delighted at my escape from the counting-house, and anxious to do credit to my benefactor's liberality, I determined to make the best use of my time, and workedcon amore. In this manner the next year and a half passed away without anything worthy of remark occurring. I was happy to perceive agradual improvement taking place in my mother's health and spirits, while Fanny was developing into a very pretty and agreeable girl.
Towards the expiration of this period Mr. Dalton saw fit to take unto himself a wife, a circumstance which induced my mother to accept the offer of a cottage belonging to Sir John Oaklands, which was suited to her limited means. It was situated within the park gates, about a mile from Heathfield Hall, and, though small, appeared well-built, and exceedingly pretty.
This was an arrangement of which I highly approved, as it enabled me to renew my intercourse with Harry, who, having left Dr. Mildman's, was spending a few months at home with his father previous to his matriculation at Trinity. I found him but little altered in any respect, save that he had become more manly-looking. For the rest, he was just as good-tempered, kind-hearted, and, alas! indolent as ever. He informed me that Lawless also was going to Cambridge, and that Coleman, when he learned what a party of us there would be, had been most anxious to accompany us; but his father, unfortunately, did not approve, and he was now articled to a solicitor, with a view to his succeeding eventually to his father's practice.
Time rolled on, and another three months beheld us duly installed in our rooms at Trinity, and dividing our time between reading (more or less, in accordance with our various idiosyncrasies), boating on the Cam, billiard-playing at Chesterton,et hoc genus omne.
Of the details of my college life I shall say but little, a piece of forbearance for which I consider myself entitled to the everlasting gratitude of my readers, who, if they have not had their curiosity on that subject more than satisfied by the interminable narrations of “Peter Priggins,” and his host of imitators, must indeed be insatiable. Suffice it then to say, that, having from the first determined, if possible, to obtain a good degree, I made a resolute stand against the advances of Lawless (who, in consequence of his father's having, for some reason best known to himself and the Premier, received a peerage, had now become an “honourable”) and the “rowing set,” amongst whom, by a sort of freemasonry of kindred souls, he had become enrolled immediately on his arrival. After several fruitless attempts to shake my determination, they pronounced me an incorrigible “sap,” and, leaving me to my own devices, proceeded to try their powers upon Oaklands. They met with but littlesuccess in this quarter, however; not that with him they had any indomitable love of study to contend with, but that “all that sort of thing was too much trouble; he really didn't believe there was a single fellow among the whole lot who had the slightest appreciation of thedolce far niente”. When, however, they found out that upon an emergency Harry could excel them all—whatever might be the nature of the feat to be performed—and that I could cross a country, pull an oar, or handle a bat with the best of them, they set us down as a pair of eccentric geniuses, and as such admitted us to a kind of honorary membership in their worshipful society; and thus, 'twixt work and play, the first two years of my residence at Cambridge passed happily enough.
“Give me that boy.”—Shakspeare.“I was thereFrom college, visiting the son.”—Princess.“To bring in, Heaven shield us, a lion among ladies, is amost dreadful thing.”—Shakspeare.
“A MIGHTY stupid chapter that last!” “True for you, A reader, but how was it to be avoided? It was necessary to give you that short summary of my proceedings, the better to enable you to understand all that is to follow, and so, don't you see?”
“Yes, that will do. Above all things, Master Frank, avoid being prosy; it is the worst fault an author can fall into.”
“Reader, you're very cross!”
It was towards the close of the long vacation that, one morning as I was sitting at breakfast with my mother and sister, a note was brought to me. On opening it, it proved to be from Coleman, whose father had lately taken a country-house near Hillingford, a small town about fifteen miles from Heathfield, where he was now about to give a grand ball to all the neighbourhood by way of house-warming. At this ball Freddy (with whom I had kept up a constant correspondence, though we had never met since I left Dr. Mildman's) was most anxious I should be present, and his letter was really a master-piece ofpersuasion: not only should I meet all the beauty and fashion of the county, but he had for some days past employed himself in paving the way for me with several of the most desirable young ladies of his acquaintance, who were now, as he assured me, actually pining to be introduced to me. Moreover, the Honourable George Lawless had promised to be there; so we were safe for fun of some sort, Lawless's tastes and habits being about as congenial to the atmosphere of a ball-room, as those of a bull to the interior of a china-shop.
[These manifold temptations, together with the desire of again meeting Freddy himself, proved irresistible, and I decided to go. Oaklands, who had received a similar invitation, was unluckily not able to accept it, as his father had fixed a shooting-party for that day, at which, and at the dinner that was to follow, Harry's presence was indispensable.
It was in the afternoon of a glorious September day that I set off on horseback for Hillingford. I had accompanied the sportsmen in the morning, and had walked just enough to excite without fatiguing myself; and now the elastic motion of the horse (a valuable hunter of Sir John's)—the influence of the fair scene around me, as I cantered over the smooth turf of Heathfield Park, and along the green lanes beyond it—the prospect of seeing again an old companion of my boyhood's days—all contributed to produce in me an exhilaration of spirits which seemed to raise me above thekleinigkeiten, the little, nesses (as the Germans so well express it) of this world, and to exalt me to some higher and nobler sphere. Out of this day-dream I was at length aroused by the clatter of horses' feet and the rattle of wheels in the lane behind me, while a man's voice, in tones not of the most gentle description, accosted me as follows: “Now then, sir, if you've got a licence to take up the whole road, I'll just trouble you to show it!” With a touch of the spur I caused my horse to bound on one side, and, as I did so, I turned to look at the speaker. Perched high in mid-air, upon some mysterious species of dog-cart, bearing a striking resemblance to the box of a mail-coach, which had contrived, by some private theory of development of its own, to dispense with its body, while it had enlarged its wheels to an almost incredible circumference; perched on the top of this remarkable machine, and enveloped in a white greatcoat undermined in every direction by strange and unexpected pockets, was none other than the Honourable George Lawless! The turn-out was drawn by a pairof thorough-breds, driven tandem, which were now (their irascible tempers being disturbed by the delay which my usurpation of the road had occasioned) relieving their feelings by executing a kind of hornpipe upon their hindlegs. The equipage was completed by a tiger, so small, that beyond a vague sensation of top-boots and a livery hat, one's senses failed to realise him.
“Why, Lawless!” exclaimed I; “you are determined to astonish the natives, with a vengeance: such a turnout as that has never been seen in these parts before, I'm certain.”
“Frank Fairlegh, by Jove! How are you, old fellow? Is it my trap you're talking about? what do you think of it? rather the thing, isn't it, eh?” I signified my approval, and Lawless continued, “Yes, it's been very much admired, I assure you;—quiet, mare! quiet!—not a bad sort of dodge to knock about in, eh?—What are you at, fool?—Tumble out, Shrimp, and hit Spiteful a lick on the nose—he's eating the mare's tail. Spicy tiger, Shrimp—did you ever hear how I picked him up?” I replied in the negative, and Lawless resumed:—
“I was down at Broadstairs, the beginning of the long —wretched place, but I went there for a boat-race with some more fellows; well, of course, because we wanted it to be fine, the weather turned sulky, and the boat-race had to be put off; so, to prevent ourselves from going melancholy mad, we hired a drag, and managed to get together a team, such as it was. The first day we went out they elected me waggoner, and a nice job I had of it; three of the horses had never been in harness before, and the fourth was a bolter. It was pretty near half an hour before we could get them to start; and, when they were off, I had enough to do to keep their heads out of the shop-windows. However, as soon as they began to get warm to their work, things improved, and we rattled along merrily. We were spinning away at about twelve miles an hour when, just as we were getting clear of the town, we came suddenly upon a covey of juvenile blackguards who were manufacturing dirt pies right in the centre of the road. As soon as I saw them I sung out to them to clear the course, but before they had time to cut away we were slap into the middle of them. Well, I thought it was to be a regular case of Herod, and that there would be at least half a dozen of them spifflicated, but they all managed to save their bacon, except Shrimp—one of the wheels went over him and broke him somewhere. Where was it, Shrimp?”
"Left arm, sir, if you please,” replied Shrimp in a shrill treble.
“Ay, so it was,” continued Lawless. “As soon as I could contrive to pull up I sent the groom back, with orders to find a doctor, get the boy repaired, and tell them to come to me at the hotel in the morning, and I'd pay for all damages. Accordingly, while I was eating my breakfast next morning, an amphibious old female in a blue pea-jacket was shown in to me, who stated she was Shrimp's mother. First, she was extremely lachrymose, and couldn't speak a word; then she got the steam up, and began slanging me till all was blue: I was 'an unchristian-like, hard-hearted, heathen Turk, so I was, and I'd been and spiled her sweet boy completely, so I had; such a boy as he was too, bless him; it was quite a sight to hear him say his Catechism; and as to reading his book, he'd beat the parson himself into fits at it'. Fortunately for me, she was a little touched in the wind, and, when she pulled up to take breath for a fresh start, I managed to cut in. 'I tell you what it is, old lady,' said I, 'there's no need for you to put yourself into a fury about it; misfortunes will happen in the best-regulated families, and it seems to me a boy more or less can make no great odds to any one—no fear of the breed becoming extinct just at present, if one may judge from appearances; however, as you seem to set a value upon this particular boy, I'll tell you what I'll do: I'llbuyhim of you, and then, if anything should go wrong with him, it will be my loss and not yours. I'll give you twenty pounds for him, and that's more than he would be worth if he was sound.' By Jove, the old girl brightened up in a moment, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat, and said: 'Five pounds more, and it's a bargain'. And the end of it all was, the brat got well before I left the place; I paid the old woman her money, and brought Shrimp away with me, and it hasn't turned out such a bad spec either, for he makes a capital tiger; and now I've broken him in, I would not take twice the money for him. You'll be at old Coleman's hop to-night, I suppose; so bye! bye! for the present.”
Thus saying he drew the whip lightly across the leader's back, the horses sprang forward, and in another moment he was out of sight.
Half an hour's ride brought me within view of Elm Lodge, the house lately taken by Mr. Coleman, senior. As I rang at the bell a figure leaped out of one of the front windows, and came bounding across the lawn to meet me,and in another minute my hand was seized and my arm nearly shaken off by Coleman.
“Freddy, old boy!” “Frank, my dear old fellow!” were our mutual exclamations, as we once more shook hands with an energy which must have highly edified a pompous footman whom my ring had summoned. After the first excitement of our meeting had a little subsided we found time to examine each other more minutely, and note the changes a couple of years had wrought in us. Coleman was the first to speak.
“Why, Frank, how you are altered!” “If you were but decently civil, you would say 'improved' instead of 'altered,'” replied I; “but you'll never learn manners.”
“Oh, if you want compliments I'll soon get up a few, but it strikes me they are not required. A man with such a face and figure as yours soon finds out that he is a deucedly good-looking fellow. Why, how high do you stand?”
“About six feet without my boots,” replied I, laughing at Coleman, who kept turning me round, and examining me from top to toe, as if I had been some newly discovered animal.
“Well, you are a screamer, and no mistake,” exclaimed he at length. “Be merciful towards the young ladies tonight, or the floor will be so cumbered with the heaps of slain that we shall have no room to dance.”
“Never fear,” rejoined I, “the female breast is not so susceptible as you imagine; and I'll back your bright eyes and merry smile to do more execution than my long legs and broad shoulders any day.”
“No soft sawder, Master Frank, if you please; it's an article for which I've a particular distaste: people never make pretty speeches to one's face without laughing at one behind one's back afterwards by way of compensation.”
“Which rule of course applies to the remarks you have just been making about me,” returned I.
“You've caught me there fairly,” laughed Coleman; “but come along in, now, I want to introduce you to my mother and the governor; they are longing to see you after all I've told them about you, though I can't say you look much like the thin delicate youth I have described you.”
Mr. Coleman, who was a short, stout, red-faced old gentleman, with a bald head and a somewhat pompous manner, came forward and welcomed me warmly, sayingall sorts of complimentary things to me in extremely high-flown and grandiloquent language, and referring to my having saved his son's life, in doing which, however, he quite won my heart by the evident pride and affection with which he spoke of Freddy. The lady of the house was a little, round, merry-looking woman, chiefly remarkable (as I soon discovered) for a peculiar mental obliquity, leading her always to think of the wrong thing at the wrong time, whereby she was perpetually becoming involved in grievous colloquial entanglements, and meeting with innumerable small personal accidents, at which no one laughed so heartily as herself.
About half-past nine that evening some of the guests began to arrive, amongst the foremost of whom was Lawless, most expensively got up for the occasion in a stock and waistcoat, which, as Coleman observed, required to be seen ere they could be believed in. As the arrivals succeeded each other more rapidly, and the rooms began to fill, Lawless took me by the arm and led me to a corner, whence, unnoticed ourselves, we could observe the whole scene.
“This will be a very full meet, Fairlegh,” he began; “I'm getting confoundedly nervous, I can tell you; I'm not used to this sort of affair, you know; I used always to shirk everything of the kind, but myMaterhas got it into her head, since she's become 'My Lady,' that she must flare up and give balls, because 'ladies of rank always do so,' forsooth; and so she's taken me in hand, to try and polish me up into something like 'a man of fashion,' as she calls those confounded puppies one sees lounging about drawing-rooms. Well, as I didn't like to rile the old woman by refusing to do what she wanted, I went to a French mounseer, to teach me my paces; I've been in training above a month, so I thought I'd come here just as a sort of trial to see how I could go the pace.” “This is yourdebut, in fact,” returned I. “My how much?” was the reply. “Oh, I see, starting for the maiden stakes, for untried horses only—that sort of thing—eh? Yes, it's the first time I've been regularly entered; I hope I shan't bolt off the course; I feel uncommon shy at starting, I can assure you.”
“Oh, you'll do very well when you're once off; your partner will tell you if you are going to make any mistake,” replied I.
“My partner, eh? You mean one of those white-muslined young ladies, who is to run in double harness with me, I suppose?—that's another sell;—I shall beexpected to talk to her, and I never know what to say to women; if one don't pay 'era compliments, and do a bit of the sentimental, they set you down as a brute directly. What an ass I was to come here! I wish it was bedtime!”
“Nonsense, man; never be afraid!” exclaimed Freddy, who had just joined us; “I'll pick you out a partner who's used to the thing, and will do all the talking herself, and be glad of the opportunity of giving her tongue a little exercise; and here comes the very girl, of all others—Di Clapperton.” Then turning towards a tall, showy-looking girl, who had just arrived, he addressed her with—“Delighted to see you, Miss Clapperton; a ball-room never appears to me properly arranged till it is graced by your presence: here's my friend, the Hon. George Lawless, dying to be introduced to you”.
“Pleasure—ar—dancing—with you, eh?” muttered the Hon. George, giving a little quick nod between each word, and getting very red in the face.
The young lady smiled a gracious assent, and saying, “I think they are forming a quadrille—shall we take our places?” marched him off in triumph.
“Frank, are you provided; or can I do anything for you?” inquired Coleman.
“Who is that interesting-looking girl, with dark hair?” asked I, in return.
“What, the she-male with the white camellia in her head, leaning on the arm of that old fellow with a cast-iron face? What a splendid pair of eyes she has got! I'll rind out her name, and get you introduced,” replied Coleman, disappearing in the crowd. In a minute or two he returned, and informed me that the young lady's name was Saville. “You've not made such a bad hit either,” continued he; “they tell me she's to be a great heiress, and old Ironsides there is her guardian. They say he keeps her shut up so close that nobody can see her; he would hardly let her come to-night, only he's under some business obligations to my governor, and he persuaded him to bring her, in order to give me a chance, I suppose.”
“What an expression of sadness there is in those deep blue eyes of hers! I am afraid she is not happy, poor thing!” said I, half thinking aloud.
“Why, you're getting quite romantic about it!” returned Coleman; “for my part, I think she looks rather jolly than otherwise;—see how she's laughing with my cousin Lucy; by Jove, how her face lights up whenshe smiles!—she's very decidedly pretty. Well, will you be introduced?—they are going to waltz.”
I signified my assent, and Coleman set off in search of his father to perform the ceremony, not having courage enough himself to face “old Stiff-back,” as he irreverently termed the young lady's guardian.
“I am sorry to refuse your young friend, Mr. Coleman,” was the reply to my introduction; “but Miss Saville never waltzes.”
“Come, don't be crabbed, Vernor; young people ought to enjoy themselves; recollect, we were young ourselves once!”
“If old Time had dealt as leniently by me as he seems to have done by you, Coleman, I should consider myself young yet,” replied Mr. Vernor. “I believe I have spoken my ward's wishes upon this point; but, if it would be more satisfactory to your friend to hear her decision from her own lips I can have no objection.—Clara, my dear, this gentleman, Mr. Fairlegh, does you the honour of wishing to waltz with you.”
Thus accosted, Miss Saville raised her eyes to my face for a moment, and, instantly casting them down again, coloured slightly, as she replied: “If Mr. Fairlegh will excuse me, I had rather not waltz”.
I could, of course, only bow in acquiescence, and was turning away, when old Mr. Coleman stopped me with:—
“There, wait a minute, Mr. Fairlegh; my little niece, Lucy Markham, will be only too glad to console you for your disappointment; she's never so happy as when she's waltzing”.
“If you are impertinent, uncle, I'll make you waltz with me till you're quite tired, by way of punishment!” replied his niece, as she accepted my proffered arm.
During a pause in the waltz I referred to the refusal just received, and asked my partner (a lively little brunette, with very white teeth and a bewitching smile) whether her friend Miss Saville were not somewhat of a prude?
“Poor dear Clara—a prude?—oh no!” was the reply. “You mean because she would not waltz, I suppose?”
I bowed my head in assent, and she continued:—
“I gave you credit for more penetration, Mr. Fairlegh; did you not see it was all that horrible Mr. Vernor, her guardian?—he chose her not to waltz; and she is too much afraid of him to dare to do anything he does not approve;—he would hardly let her come here to-night, only Uncle Coleman worried him into it”.
"She is exceedingly pretty,” remarked I; “there is something peculiar in the expression of those beautiful blue eyes which particularly pleases me; an earnest, trustful look, which—you will laugh at what I am going to say—which I have never seen before, except in the eyes of a dog!”
“Oh! I know so well what you mean,” replied my partner; “I have observed it often, but I never should have known how to express it. What a good idea!”
“May I ask whether you are very intimate with her? Is she an old friend of yours?”
“No, I never saw her till my uncle took this house; but Mr. Vernor sometimes brings her with him when he drives over on business, and she comes and sits with me while they are puzzling about their parchments. I like her so much; she seems as agreeable and good as she is pretty.”
“How is it,” asked I, “that my friend Freddy did not know her by sight even?—he had to inquire her name this evening.”
“Why, Frederick is generally obliged to be in town, you know; and I have observed that when he is down here Mr. Vernor never brings her with him.”
“He had better make a nun of her at once,” said I.
“Perhaps she won't be a nun!” said, or rather sang Lucy. And here we joined the waltzers again, and the conversation ended.