CHAPTER V.
A FAIR BARGAIN.
The Parson had a little shake in his system; and his faith in HigherProvidence was weaker in his friend's case than in his own, which iscontrary perhaps to the general rule. As he passed through the largegloomy hall, his hat was quivering in his hand, like a leaf that hascaught the syringe; and when he stood face to face with Lady Waldron, hewould have given up a small subscription, to be as calm as she was.
But her self-possession was the style of pride and habit, rather thanthe gift of nature. No one could look into her very handsome face, orwatch her dark eyes as she spoke, without perceiving that her nature wasstrong, and warm, and generous. Pride of birth taught her to control hertemper; but education had been insufficient to complete the mastery. Andso she remained in a foreign country, vehement, prejudiced, andindifferent to things too large for her to understand, jealous,exacting, and quick to take offence; but at the same time a lover ofjustice, truthful, free-handed, and loyal to friends, kind to those introuble, and devoted to her husband. Her father had been of Spanish, andher mother of Irish birth, and her early memories were of tumult, war,distress, and anarchy.
All English clergymen were to her as heretics and usurpers; and beingintensely patriotic, she disliked the English nation for its services toher country. Mr. Penniloe had felt himself kept throughout at a verywell measured distance; but like a large-hearted, and humble man, hadconcerned himself little about such trifles; though his wife had beenvery indignant. And he met the lady now, as he had always done, with apleasant look, and a gentle smile. But she was a little annoyed at herown confession of his influence.
"It is good of you to come so soon," she said, "and to break your verynice engagements. But I have been so anxious, so consumed with greatanxiety. And everything grows worse and worse. What can I do? There isnone to help me. The only one I could trust entirely, my dear brother,is far away."
"There are many who would do their best to help you," the Curateanswered with a faltering voice, for her strange humility surprised him."You know without any words of mine----"
"Is it that you really love Sir Thomas, or only that you find himuseful? Pardon me; I put not the question rudely. But all are so selfishin this England."
"I hope not. I think not," he answered very gently, having learned toallow for the petulance of grief. "Your dear husband is not of thatnature, Lady Waldron; and he does not suppose that his friends are so."
"No. It is true he makes the best of everybody. Even of that young Dr.Fox, who is ill-treating him. That is the very thing I come to speak of.If he had a good physician--but he is so resolute."
"But you will persuade him. It is a thing he owes to you. And in onelittle way I can help you perhaps a little. He fancies, I dare say, thatto call in a man of larger experience would be unkind to Fox, and mighteven seem a sort of slur upon him. But I think I can get Fox himself topropose it, and even to insist upon it for his own sake. I believe thathe has been thinking of it."
"What is he, that his opinions should be consulted? He cannot see. But Isee things that agitate me--oh darker, darker--I cannot discover anyconsolation anywhere. And my husband will not hear a word! It isso--this reason one day, and then some other, to excuse that he is notbetter; and his strong hands going, and his shoulders growing round, andhis great knees beginning to quiver, and his face--so what you callcheerful, lively, jolly, turning to whiter than mine, and blue withcups, and cords, and channels in it--oh, I will not have my husbandlong; and where shall I be without him?"
As she turned away her face, and waved her hand for the visitor to leaveher, Mr. Penniloe discovered one more reason for doubting his ownjudgment.
"I will go and see him. He is always glad to see me;" he said, as iftalking to himself alone. "The hand of the Lord is over us, and Hismercy is on the righteous."
The old soldier was not the man to stay indoors, or dwell upon hisailments. As long as he had leg to move, or foot at all to carry him, noeasy-chair or study-lounge held any temptation for him. The open air,and the breezy fields, or sunny breadth of garden full of ever-changingincident, the hill-top, or the river-side, were his delight, while hissteps were strong; and even now, whenever bodily pain relaxed.
Mr. Penniloe found him in his kitchen-garden, walking slowly, as behovesa man of large frame and great stature, and leaning on a staff oftwisted Spanish oak, which had stood him in good stead, some five andtwenty years ago. Following every uncertain step, with her nose as closeas if she had been a spur upon either boot, and yet escaping contact asa dog alone can do, was his favourite little black spaniel _Jess_, asloving a creature as ever lived.
"What makes you look at me in that way, Jumps?" the Colonel enquired,while shaking hands. "I hope you are not setting up for a doctor too.One is quite enough for the parish."
"Talking about doctors," replied the Parson, who thought it no scornwhen his old schoolmate revived the nickname of early days (conferredperhaps by some young observer, in recognition of his springystep)--"talking about doctors, I think it very likely that my old friendGowler--you have heard me speak of him--will pay me a little visit,perhaps next week."
"Gowler? Was he at Peter's, after my time? It scarcely sounds like aWest country name. No, I remember now. It was at Oxford you fell in withhim."
"Yes. He got his Fellowship two years after I got mine. The cleverestman in the College, and one of the best scholars I ever met with. I wasnowhere with him, though I read so much harder."
"Come now, Jumps--don't tell me that!" Sir Thomas exclaimed, lookingdown with admiration at the laureate of his boyhood; "why, you kneweverything as pat as butter, when you were no more than a hop o' mythumb! I remember arguing with Gus Browne, that it must be because youwere small enough to jump into the skulls of those old codgers, Homer,and Horace, and the rest of them. But how you must have grown sincethen, my friend! I suppose they gave you more to eat at Oxford. But Idon't believe in any man alive being a finer scholar than you are."
"Gowler was, I tell you, Tom; and many, many others; as I soondiscovered in the larger world. He had a much keener and deeper mind,far more enquiring and penetrating, more subtle and logical, andcomprehensive, together with a smaller share perhaps of--of----"
"Humility--that's the word you mean; although you don't like to say it."
"No, that is not what I mean exactly. What I mean is docility,ductility, sequacity--if there is any such word. The acceptance of whathas been discovered, or at any rate acknowledged, by the highest humanintellect. Gowler would be content with nothing, because it hadsatisfied the highest human intellect. It must satisfy his own, or berejected."
"I am very sorry for him," said Sir Thomas Waldron; "such a man must bedrummed out of any useful regiment."
"Well, and he was drummed out of Oxford; or at any rate would follow nodrum there. He threw up his Fellowship, rather than take orders, and forsome years we heard nothing of him. But he was making his way in London,and winning reputation in minute anatomy. He became the first authorityin what is called _histology_, a comparatively new branch of medicalscience----"
"Don't Phil, I beg of you. You make me creep. I think of Burke, andHare, and all those wretches. Fellows who disturb a man's last rest! Ihave a deep respect for an honest wholesome surgeon; and wonderfulthings I have seen them do. But the best of them are gone. It was thewar that made them; and, thank God, we have no occasion for such carversnow."
"Come and sit down, Tom. You look--at least, I mean, I have been upon mylegs many hours to-day, and there is nothing like the jump in them ofthirty years ago. Well, you are a kind man, the kindest of the kind, toallow your kitchen-gardeners such a comfortable bench."
"You know what I think," replied Sir Thomas, as he made believe to walkwith great steadiness and vigour, "that we don't behave half well enoughto those who do all the work for us. And I am quite sure that we Toriesfeel it, ay and try to better it, ten times as much as all thosespouting radical reformers do. Why, who is at the bottom of all theseshocki
ng riots, and rick-burnings? The man who puts iron, and boilingwater, to rob a poor fellow of his bread and bacon. You'll see none ofthat on any land of mine. But if anything happens to me, who knows?"
"My dear friend," Mr. Penniloe began, while the hand which he laid uponhis friend's was shaking, "may I say a word to you, as an ancient chum?You know that I would not intrude, I am sure."
"I am sure that you would not do anything which a gentleman would notdo, Phil."
"It is simply this--we are most anxious about you. You are not in goodhealth, and you will not confess it. This is not at all fair to thosewho love you. Courage, and carelessness about oneself, are very finethings, but may be carried too far. In a case like yours they aresinful, Tom. Your life is of very great importance, and you have noright to neglect it. And can you not see that it is downright cruelty toyour wife and children, if you allow yourself to get worse and worse,while their anxiety increases, and you do nothing, and won't listen toadvice, and fling bottles of medicine into the bonfire? I saw one justnow, as we came down the walk--as full as when Fox put the cork in. Isthat even fair to a young practitioner?"
"Well, I never thought of that. That's a new light altogether. You cansee well enough, it seems, when it is not wanted. But don't tell Jemmy,about that bottle. Mind, you are upon your honour. But oh, Phil, if youonly knew the taste of that stuff! I give you my word----"
"You shall not laugh it off. You may say what you like, but you know inyour heart that you are not acting kindly, or even fairly, by us. Wouldyou like your wife, or daughter, to feel seriously ill, and hide it asif it was no concern of yours? I put aside higher considerations, Tom Ispeak to you simply as an old and true friend."
It was not the power of his words, so much as the trembling of hisvoice, and the softness of his eyes, that vanquished the tough oldsoldier.
"I don't want to make any fuss about it, Phil," Sir Thomas answeredquietly; "and I would rather have kept it to myself, a little longer.But the simple truth is, that I am dying."
There was no sign of fear, or of sorrow, in his gaze; and he smiled verycheerfully while offering his hand, as if to be forgiven for the pastconcealment. Mr. Penniloe could not speak, but fell back on the bench,and feared to look at him.
"My dear friend, I see that I was wrong to tell you," the sick mancontinued in a feebler tone; "but you must have found it out veryshortly; and I know that Jemmy Fox is well aware of it. But not a word,of course, to my wife or daughter, until--until it can't be helped. Poorthings--what a blow it will be to them! The thought of that makes merebel sometimes. But it is in your power to help me greatly, to help me,as no other man on earth can do. It has long been in my thoughts, but Iscarcely dared to ask you. Perhaps that was partly why I told you this.But you are too good and kind, to call me selfish."
"Whatever it is, I will do it for you readily, if God gives me power,and ordains it so."
"Never make rash promises. What was it you used to construe to me in the_Delectus_? This is a long and a troublesome job, and will place you ina delicate position. It is no less a trouble than to undertake, for atime at least, the management of my affairs, and see to the interests ofmy Nicie."
"But surely your wife--surely Lady Waldron--so resolute, ready, andcapable----"
"Yes, she is all that, and a great deal more--honourable, upright, warm,and loving. She is not at all valued as she should be here, because shecannot come to like our country, or our people. But that would be noobstacle; the obstacle is this--she has a twin-brother, a certain Countde Varcas, whom she loves ardently, and I will not speak against him;but he must have no chance of interfering here. My son Tom--_Rodrigo_his mother calls him, after her beloved brother--is barely of age, asyou know, and sent off with his regiment to India; a very fine fellow inmany ways, but as for business--excuse me a moment, Phil; I will finish,when this is over."
With one broad hand upon the bench, he contrived to rise, and to steadyhimself upon his staff, and stood for a little while thus, with his headthrown back, and his forehead like a block of stone. No groan from thechest, or contortion of the face, was allowed to show his agony; thoughevery drawn muscle, and wan hollow, told what he was enduring. And theblue scar of some ancient wound grew vivid upon his strong countenance,from the left cheek-bone to the corner of the mouth, with the palliddamp on either side. Little _Jess_ came and watched him, with wistfuleyes, and a soft interrogative tremble of tail; while the clergyman roseto support him; but he would have no assistance.
"Thank God, it is over. I am all right now, for another three hours, Idare say. What a coward you must think me, Phil! I have been through agood deal of pain, in my time. But this beats me, I must confess. Theworst of it is, when it comes at night, to keep it from poor Isabel. Sitdown again now, and let me go on with my story."
"Not now, Tom. Not just yet, I implore you," cried the Parson, himselfmore overcome than the sufferer of all that anguish. "Wait till you findyourself a little stronger."
"No. That may never be. If you could only know the relief it will be tome. I have not a great mind. I cannot leave things to the Lord, exceptas concerns my own old self. Now that I have broken the matter to you, Imust go through with it. I cannot die, until my mind is easy about poorNicie. Her mother would be good to her, of course. But--well, Tom is heridol; and there is that blessed Count. Tom is very simple, just as Iwas, at his age. I have many old friends; but all easy-going fellows,who would leave everything to their lawyers--none at all to trust, likeyou. And I know how fond you are of Nicie."
"To be sure I am. How could I help it? But remember that I am not at alla man of business."
"What does that matter? You are very clear-headed, and prudent--at anyrate for other people. And you will have Webber, a careful and cleverSolicitor, to back you up. And mind, I am not asking you to supersede mywife, or take what should be her position. She is quite unacquaintedwith English ways, she does not think as an Englishwoman would. She musthave an Englishman to act with her, in the trusts that will arise uponmy death; and when we were married in Spain, as you know, there was nochance of any marriage-settlement. In fact there was nothing to settleas yet, for I was not even heir to this property, until poor Jack waskilled at Quatrebras. And as for herself, all the family affairs were atsixes and sevens, as you may suppose, during the French occupation. Herfather had been a very wealthy man and the head of an ancient race,which claimed descent from the old Carthaginian Barcas, of whom you knowmore than I do. But he had been too patriotic, and advanced immense sumsto the State without security, and in other ways dipped his fineproperty, so that it would not recover for a generation. At any ratenothing came to her then, though she ought to have had a good sumafterwards. But whatever there may have been, her noble twin-brothertook good care that none of it came this way. And I was glad to get herwithout a _peseta_; and what is more, I have never repented of it; for anobler and more affectionate woman never trod the earth."
As the sick man passed his hand before his eyes, in sad recollection ofthe bygone bliss, Mr. Penniloe thought of his own dear wife--a farsweeter woman in his mild opinion; and, if less noble, none the worsefor that.
"But the point of it is this, Tom," the clergyman said firmly, for hebegan to feel already like a man of business, however sad and mournfulthe business must become; "does Lady Waldron consent to receive me,as--as co-trustee, or whatever it is called, if, if--which Godforbid--it should ever prove to be necessary?"
"My dear friend, I spoke to her about it yesterday, in such a way as notto cause anxiety or alarm: and she made no objection, but lefteverything to me. So you have only to agree; and all is settled."
"In that case, Tom," said Mr. Penniloe arising, and offering both handsto his friend, "I will not shirk my duty to a man I love so much. Maythe Lord be with me, for I am not a man of business--or at least, I havenot attained that reputation yet! But I will do my best, and yourNicie's interests shall be as sacred to me, as my own child's. Is thereanything you would like to say about her?"
"
Yes, Phil, one thing most important. She is a very loving girl; and Itrust that she will marry a good man, who will value her. I havefancied, more than once, that Jemmy Fox is very fond of her. He is amanly straightforward fellow, and of a very good old family, quite equalto ours, so far as that goes. He has not much of this world's goods atpresent; and her mother would naturally look higher. But when a man isin my condition, he takes truer views of life. If Jemmy loves her, andshe comes to love him, I believe that they would have a very happy life.He is very cheerful, and of the sweetest temper--the first of all thingsin married life--and he is as upright as yourself. In a few years hewill be very well off. I could wish no better fortune for her--supposingthat she gives her heart to him."
"He is a great favourite of mine as well;" the Curate replied, thoughsurprised not a little. "But as I have agreed to all that you wish, Tom,you must yield a little to my most earnest wish, and at the same timedischarge a simple duty. I cannot help hoping that your fears--or I willnot call them that, for you fear nothing--but your views of your owncase are all wrong. You must promise to take the highest medicalopinion. If I bring Gowler over, with Fox's full approval, will youallow him to examine you?"
"You are too bad, Phil. But you have caught me there. If you let me putyou into the hands of lawyers, it is tit for tat that you should driveme into those of doctors."