Chapter 40
Little thinking of the plan for his happy settlement in life which hadsuggested itself to the teeming brain of his provident commander, Hughmade no pause until Saint Dunstan's giants struck the hour above him,when he worked the handle of a pump which stood hard by, with greatvigour, and thrusting his head under the spout, let the water gush uponhim until a little stream ran down from every uncombed hair, and he waswet to the waist. Considerably refreshed by this ablution, both in mindand body, and almost sobered for the time, he dried himself as he bestcould; then crossed the road, and plied the knocker of the Middle Templegate.
The night-porter looked through a small grating in the portal with asurly eye, and cried 'Halloa!' which greeting Hugh returned in kind, andbade him open quickly.
'We don't sell beer here,' cried the man; 'what else do you want?'
'To come in,' Hugh replied, with a kick at the door.
'Where to go?'
'Paper Buildings.'
'Whose chambers?'
'Sir John Chester's.' Each of which answers, he emphasised with anotherkick.
After a little growling on the other side, the gate was opened, and hepassed in: undergoing a close inspection from the porter as he did so.
'YOU wanting Sir John, at this time of night!' said the man.
'Ay!' said Hugh. 'I! What of that?'
'Why, I must go with you and see that you do, for I don't believe it.'
'Come along then.'
Eyeing him with suspicious looks, the man, with key and lantern, walkedon at his side, and attended him to Sir John Chester's door, at whichHugh gave one knock, that echoed through the dark staircase like aghostly summons, and made the dull light tremble in the drowsy lamp.
'Do you think he wants me now?' said Hugh.
Before the man had time to answer, a footstep was heard within, a lightappeared, and Sir John, in his dressing-gown and slippers, opened thedoor.
'I ask your pardon, Sir John,' said the porter, pulling off his hat.'Here's a young man says he wants to speak to you. It's late forstrangers. I thought it best to see that all was right.'
'Aha!' cried Sir John, raising his eyebrows. 'It's you, messenger, isit? Go in. Quite right, friend. I commend your prudence highly. Thankyou. God bless you. Good night.'
To be commended, thanked, God-blessed, and bade good night by one whocarried 'Sir' before his name, and wrote himself M.P. to boot, wassomething for a porter. He withdrew with much humility and reverence.Sir John followed his late visitor into the dressing-room, and sittingin his easy-chair before the fire, and moving it so that he could seehim as he stood, hat in hand, beside the door, looked at him from headto foot.
The old face, calm and pleasant as ever; the complexion, quite juvenilein its bloom and clearness; the same smile; the wonted precision andelegance of dress; the white, well-ordered teeth; the delicate hands;the composed and quiet manner; everything as it used to be: no mark ofage or passion, envy, hate, or discontent: all unruffled and serene, andquite delightful to behold.
He wrote himself M.P.--but how? Why, thus. It was a proud family--moreproud, indeed, than wealthy. He had stood in danger of arrest; ofbailiffs, and a jail--a vulgar jail, to which the common people withsmall incomes went. Gentlemen of ancient houses have no privilege ofexemption from such cruel laws--unless they are of one great house, andthen they have. A proud man of his stock and kindred had the means ofsending him there. He offered--not indeed to pay his debts, but to lethim sit for a close borough until his own son came of age, which, if helived, would come to pass in twenty years. It was quite as good as anInsolvent Act, and infinitely more genteel. So Sir John Chester was amember of Parliament.
But how Sir John? Nothing so simple, or so easy. One touch with a swordof state, and the transformation was effected. John Chester, Esquire,M.P., attended court--went up with an address--headed a deputation.Such elegance of manner, so many graces of deportment, such powers ofconversation, could never pass unnoticed. Mr was too common forsuch merit. A man so gentlemanly should have been--but Fortune iscapricious--born a Duke: just as some dukes should have been bornlabourers. He caught the fancy of the king, knelt down a grub, and rosea butterfly. John Chester, Esquire, was knighted and became Sir John.
'I thought when you left me this evening, my esteemed acquaintance,'said Sir John after a pretty long silence, 'that you intended to returnwith all despatch?'
'So I did, master.'
'And so you have?' he retorted, glancing at his watch. 'Is that what youwould say?'
Instead of replying, Hugh changed the leg on which he leant, shuffledhis cap from one hand to the other, looked at the ground, the wall, theceiling, and finally at Sir John himself; before whose pleasant face helowered his eyes again, and fixed them on the floor.
'And how have you been employing yourself in the meanwhile?' quoth SirJohn, lazily crossing his legs. 'Where have you been? what harm have youbeen doing?'
'No harm at all, master,' growled Hugh, with humility. 'I have only doneas you ordered.'
'As I WHAT?' returned Sir John.
'Well then,' said Hugh uneasily, 'as you advised, or said I ought, orsaid I might, or said that you would do, if you was me. Don't be so hardupon me, master.'
Something like an expression of triumph in the perfect control he hadestablished over this rough instrument appeared in the knight's face foran instant; but it vanished directly, as he said--paring his nails whilespeaking:
'When you say I ordered you, my good fellow, you imply that I directedyou to do something for me--something I wanted done--something for myown ends and purposes--you see? Now I am sure I needn't enlarge upon theextreme absurdity of such an idea, however unintentional; so please--'and here he turned his eyes upon him--'to be more guarded. Will you?'
'I meant to give you no offence,' said Hugh. 'I don't know what to say.You catch me up so very short.'
'You will be caught up much shorter, my good friend--infinitelyshorter--one of these days, depend upon it,' replied his patron calmly.'By-the-bye, instead of wondering why you have been so long, my wondershould be why you came at all. Why did you?'
'You know, master,' said Hugh, 'that I couldn't read the bill I found,and that supposing it to be something particular from the way it waswrapped up, I brought it here.'
'And could you ask no one else to read it, Bruin?' said Sir John.
'No one that I could trust with secrets, master. Since Barnaby Rudgewas lost sight of for good and all--and that's five years ago--I haven'ttalked with any one but you.'
'You have done me honour, I am sure.'
'I have come to and fro, master, all through that time, when there wasanything to tell, because I knew that you'd be angry with me if I stayedaway,' said Hugh, blurting the words out, after an embarrassed silence;'and because I wished to please you if I could, and not to have you goagainst me. There. That's the true reason why I came to-night. You knowthat, master, I am sure.'
'You are a specious fellow,' returned Sir John, fixing his eyes uponhim, 'and carry two faces under your hood, as well as the best. Didn'tyou give me in this room, this evening, any other reason; no dislikeof anybody who has slighted you lately, on all occasions, abused you,treated you with rudeness; acted towards you, more as if you were amongrel dog than a man like himself?'
'To be sure I did!' cried Hugh, his passion rising, as the other meantit should; 'and I say it all over now, again. I'd do anything to havesome revenge on him--anything. And when you told me that he and allthe Catholics would suffer from those who joined together under thathandbill, I said I'd make one of 'em, if their master was the devilhimself. I AM one of 'em. See whether I am as good as my word and turnout to be among the foremost, or no. I mayn't have much head, master,but I've head enough to remember those that use me ill. You shall see,and so shall he, and so shall hundreds more, how my spirit backs mewhen the time comes. My bark is nothing to my bite. Some that I know hadbetter have a wild lion among 'em than me, when I am fairly loose--theyhad!'
/> The knight looked at him with a smile of far deeper meaning thanordinary; and pointing to the old cupboard, followed him with his eyeswhile he filled and drank a glass of liquor; and smiled when his backwas turned, with deeper meaning yet.
'You are in a blustering mood, my friend,' he said, when Hugh confrontedhim again.
'Not I, master!' cried Hugh. 'I don't say half I mean. I can't. Ihaven't got the gift. There are talkers enough among us; I'll be one ofthe doers.'
'Oh! you have joined those fellows then?' said Sir John, with an air ofmost profound indifference.
'Yes. I went up to the house you told me of; and got put down upon themuster. There was another man there, named Dennis--'
'Dennis, eh!' cried Sir John, laughing. 'Ay, ay! a pleasant fellow, Ibelieve?'
'A roaring dog, master--one after my own heart--hot upon the mattertoo--red hot.'
'So I have heard,' replied Sir John, carelessly. 'You don't happen toknow his trade, do you?'
'He wouldn't say,' cried Hugh. 'He keeps it secret.'
'Ha ha!' laughed Sir John. 'A strange fancy--a weakness with somepersons--you'll know it one day, I dare swear.'
'We're intimate already,' said Hugh.
'Quite natural! And have been drinking together, eh?' pursued Sir John.'Did you say what place you went to in company, when you left LordGeorge's?'
Hugh had not said or thought of saying, but he told him; and thisinquiry being followed by a long train of questions, he related all thathad passed both in and out of doors, the kind of people he had seen,their numbers, state of feeling, mode of conversation, apparentexpectations and intentions. His questioning was so artfully contrived,that he seemed even in his own eyes to volunteer all this informationrather than to have it wrested from him; and he was brought to thisstate of feeling so naturally, that when Mr Chester yawned at length anddeclared himself quite wearied out, he made a rough kind of excuse forhaving talked so much.
'There--get you gone,' said Sir John, holding the door open in his hand.'You have made a pretty evening's work. I told you not to do this. Youmay get into trouble. You'll have an opportunity of revenging yourselfon your proud friend Haredale, though, and for that, you'd hazardanything, I suppose?'
'I would,' retorted Hugh, stopping in his passage out and lookingback; 'but what do I risk! What do I stand a chance of losing, master?Friends, home? A fig for 'em all; I have none; they are nothing to me.Give me a good scuffle; let me pay off old scores in a bold riot wherethere are men to stand by me; and then use me as you like--it don'tmatter much to me what the end is!'
'What have you done with that paper?' said Sir John.
'I have it here, master.'
'Drop it again as you go along; it's as well not to keep such thingsabout you.'
Hugh nodded, and touching his cap with an air of as much respect as hecould summon up, departed.
Sir John, fastening the doors behind him, went back to hisdressing-room, and sat down once again before the fire, at which hegazed for a long time, in earnest meditation.
'This happens fortunately,' he said, breaking into a smile, 'andpromises well. Let me see. My relative and I, who are the mostProtestant fellows in the world, give our worst wishes to the RomanCatholic cause; and to Saville, who introduces their bill, I have apersonal objection besides; but as each of us has himself for the firstarticle in his creed, we cannot commit ourselves by joining with a veryextravagant madman, such as this Gordon most undoubtedly is. Now really,to foment his disturbances in secret, through the medium of such a veryapt instrument as my savage friend here, may further our real ends;and to express at all becoming seasons, in moderate and polite terms,a disapprobation of his proceedings, though we agree with him inprinciple, will certainly be to gain a character for honesty anduprightness of purpose, which cannot fail to do us infinite service, andto raise us into some importance. Good! So much for public grounds. Asto private considerations, I confess that if these vagabonds WOULD makesome riotous demonstration (which does not appear impossible), and WOULDinflict some little chastisement on Haredale as a not inactive man amonghis sect, it would be extremely agreeable to my feelings, and wouldamuse me beyond measure. Good again! Perhaps better!'
When he came to this point, he took a pinch of snuff; then beginningslowly to undress, he resumed his meditations, by saying with a smile:
'I fear, I DO fear exceedingly, that my friend is following fast in thefootsteps of his mother. His intimacy with Mr Dennis is very ominous.But I have no doubt he must have come to that end any way. If I lendhim a helping hand, the only difference is, that he may, upon the whole,possibly drink a few gallons, or puncheons, or hogsheads, less in thislife than he otherwise would. It's no business of mine. It's a matter ofvery small importance!'
So he took another pinch of snuff, and went to bed.