CHAPTER XVIII
FRENCH AND ENGLISH
Admiral Darling was now so busy, and so continually called from home bythe duties of his commandership, that he could not fairly be expectedto call upon Mr. Caryl Carne. Yet that gentleman, being rathersensitive--which sometimes means very spiteful--resented as a personalslight this failure; although, if the overture had been made, he wouldhave ascribed it to intrusive curiosity, and a low desire to behold himin his ruins. But truly in the old man's kindly heart there was no sourcorner for ill blood to lurk in, and no dull fibre for ill-will to feedon. He kept on meaning to go and call on Caryl Carne, and he had quitemade up his mind to do it, but something always happened to prevent him.
Neither did he care a groat for his old friend Twemlow's advice uponthat subject. "Don't go near him," said the Rector, taking care thathis wife was quite safe out of hearing; "it would ill become me to saya word against my dear wife's own nephew, and the representative of herfamily. And, to the utmost of my knowledge, there is nothing to be saidagainst him. But I can't get on with him at all. I don't know why. Hehas only honored us with a visit twice, and he would not even come todinner. Nice manners they learn on the Continent! But none of us weptwhen he declined; not even his good aunt, my wife. Though he must havegot a good deal to tell us, and an extraordinary knowledge of foreignways. But instead of doing that, he seems to sneer at us. I can lookat a question from every point of view, and I defy anybody to call menarrow-minded. But still, one must draw the line somewhere, or throwoverboard all principles; and I draw it, my dear Admiral, againstinfidels and against Frenchmen."
"No rational person can do otherwise"--the Admiral's opinion wasdecisive--"but this young man is of good English birth, and one can'thelp feeling sorry for his circumstances. And I assure you, Twemlow,that I feel respect as well for the courage that he shows, and theperseverance, in coming home and facing those vile usurers. And your ownwife's nephew! Why, you ought to take his part through thick and thin,whatever you may think of him. From all I hear he must be a young man ofexceedingly high principle; and I shall make a point of calling upon himthe first half-hour I get to spare. To-morrow, if possible; or if not,the day after, at the very latest."
But the needful half-hour had not yet been found; and Carne, who waswont to think the worst of everybody, concluded that the Darling racestill cherished the old grudge, which had always been on his own side.For this he cared little, and perhaps was rather glad of it. For theold dwelling-place of his family (the Carne Castle besieged by theRoundheads a hundred and sixty years agone) now threatened to tumbleabout the ears of any one knocking at the gate too hard. Or rather theremnants of its walls did so; the greater part, having already fallen,lay harmless, and produced fine blackberries.
As a castle, it had been well respected in its day, though not of mightybulwarks or impregnable position. Standing on a knoll, between theramp of high land and the slope of shore, it would still have beenconspicuous to traveller and to voyager but for the tall trees aroundit. These hid the moat, and the relics of the drawbridge, the groinedarchway, and cloven tower of the keep--which had twice been struck bylightning--as well as the windows of the armoury, and the chapel hushedwith ivy. The banqueting hall was in better repair, for the Carnes hadbeen hospitable to the last; but the windows kept no wind off, neitherdid the roof repulse the rain. In short, all the front was in a prettystate of ruin, very nice to look at, very nasty to live in, except fortoads, and bats, and owls, and rats, and efts, and brindled slugs withyellow stripes; or on a summer eve the cockroach and the carrion-beetle.
At the back, however, and above the road which Cheeseman travelled inhis pony-chaise, was a range of rooms still fit to dwell in, thoughpoorly furnished, and floored with stone. In better times these had beenthe domain of the house-keeper and the butler, the cook and the otherupper servants, who had minded their duty and heeded their comfort moretruly than the master and mistress did. For the downfall of this family,as of very many others, had been chiefly caused by unwise marriage.Instead of choosing sensible and active wives to look after their homeaffairs and regulate the household, the Carnes for several generationsnow had wedded flighty ladies of good birth and pretty manners, noneof whom brought them a pipkinful of money, while all helped to spend apotful. Therefore their descendant was now living in the kitchens, andhad no idea how to make use of them, in spite of his French education;of comfort also he had not much idea, which was all the better for him;and he scarcely knew what it was to earn and enjoy soft quietude.
One night, when the summer was in full prime, and the weather almostblameless, this young Squire Carne rode slowly back from Springhaven tohis worn-out castle. The beauty of the night had kept him back, forhe hated to meet people on the road. The lingering gossips, the tiredfagot-bearers, the youths going home from the hay-rick, the man witha gun who knows where the hares play, and beyond them all thetruant sweethearts, who cannot have enough of one another, and wish"good-night" at every corner of the lane, till they tumble over oneanother's cottage steps--all these to Caryl Carne were a smell to beavoided, an eyesore to shut the eyes at. He let them get home and pulltheir boots off, and set the frying-pan a-bubbling--for they ended theday with a bit of bacon, whenever they could cash or credit it--and thenhe set forth upon his lonely ride, striking fear into the heart of anybad child that lay awake.
"Almost as good as France is this," he muttered in French, though foronce enjoying the pleasure of good English air; "and better than Francewould it be, if only it were not cut short so suddenly. There will comea cold wind by-and-by, or a chilly black cloud from the east, and thenall is shivers and rawness. But if it only remained like this, I couldforgive it for producing me. After all, it is my native land; and I sawthe loveliest girl to-day that ever I set eyes on. None of their made-upand highly finished demoiselles is fit to look at her--such simplebeauty, such charms of nature, such enchanting innocence! Ah, that iswhere those French girls fail--they are always studying how they look,instead of leaving us to think of it. Bah! What odds to me? I havehigher stakes to play for. But according to old Twemlow's description,she must be the daughter of that old bear Darling, with whom I shallhave to pick a bone some day. Ha! How amusing is that battery to me! Howlittle John Bull knows the nature of French troops! To-morrow we areto have a grand practice-day; and I hope they won't shoot me in my newlodgings. Nothing is impossible to such an idiot as Stubbard. What a setof imbeciles I have found to do with! They have scarcely wit enough toamuse oneself with. Pest of my soul! Is that you, Charron? Again youhave broken my orders."
"Names should be avoided in the open air," answered the man, who wasswinging on a gate with the simple delight of a Picard. "The climate isof France so much to-night that I found it my duty to encourage it.For what reason shall not I do that? It is not so often that I haveoccasion. My dear friend, scold not, but accept the compliment veryseldom truthful to your native land. There are none of your clod-patesabout to-night."
"Come in at once. The mere sound of your breath is enough to set theneighbourhood wondering. Could I ever have been burdened with a moreFrench Frenchman, though you speak as good English as I do?"
"It was all of that miserable Cheray," the French gentleman said, whenthey sat in the kitchen, and Jerry Bowles was feeding the fine blackhorse. "Fruit is a thing that my mouth prepares for, directly there isany warmth in the sun. It puts itself up, it is elevated, it will nothave meat, or any substance coarse. Wine of the softest and fruit ofthe finest is what it must then have, or unmouth itself. That miserableCheray, his maledictioned name put me forth to be on fire for the goodthing he designs. Cherays you call them, and for cherays I despatchedhim, suspended between the leaves in the good sun. Bah! there is nothingever fit to eat in England. The cherays look very fine, very fineindeed; and so many did I consume that to travel on a gate was theonly palliation. Would you have me stay all day in this long cellar?No diversion, no solace, no change, no conversation! Old Cheray maysit with his hands upon his knees, but to Ren
aud Charron that is notsufficient. How much longer before I sally forth to do the things,to fight, to conquer the nations? Where is even my little ship ofdespatch?"
"Captain," answered Caryl Carne, preparing calmly for his frugal supper,"you are placed under my command, and another such speech will despatchyou to Dunkirk, bound hand and foot, in the hold of the Little Corporal,with which I am now in communication. Unless by the time I have severedthis bone you hand me your sword in submission, my supper will have tobe postponed, while I march you to the yew-tree, signal for a boat, andlay you strapped beneath the oarsmen."
Captain Charron, who had held the command of a French corvette, staredfuriously at this man, younger than himself, so strongly establishedover him. Carne was not concerned to look at him; all he cared about wasto divide the joint of a wing-rib of cold roast beef, where some goodpickings lurked in the hollow. Then the French man, whose chance wouldhave been very small in a personal encounter with his chief, arose andtook a naval sword, short but rather heavy, from a hook which in betterdays had held a big dish-cover, and making a salute rather graceful thangracious, presented the fringed handle to the carver.
"This behaviour is sensible, my friend, and worthy of your distinguishedabilities." Carne's resolute face seldom yielded to a smile, but thesmile when it came was a sweet one. "Pardon me for speaking strongly,but my instructions must be the law to you. If you were my commander(as, but for local knowledge, and questions of position here, you wouldbe), do you think then that you would allow me to rebel, to grumble,to wander, to demand my own pleasure, when you knew that it would ruinthings?"
"Bravo! It is well spoken. My captain, I embrace you. In you lives thespirit of the Grand Army, which we of the sea and of the ships admirealways, and always desire to emulate. Ah, if England possessed manyEnglishmen like you, she would be hard to conquer."
The owner of this old English castle shot a glance at the Frenchmanfor any sign of irony in his words. Seeing none, he continued, in thefriendly vein:
"Our business here demands the greatest caution, skill, reserve, andself-denial. We are fortunate in having no man of any keen penetrationin the neighbourhood, at least of those in authority and concerned withpublic matters. As one of an ancient family, possessing the land forcenturies, I have every right to be here, and to pursue my privatebusiness in privacy. But if it once gets talked about that a Frenchofficer is with me, these stupid people will awake their suspicions morestrongly by their own stupidity. In this queer island you may do whatyou like till the neighbourhood turns against you; and then, if yourevolve upon a pin, you cannot suit them. You understand? You have heardme before. It is this that I never can knock into you."
Renaud Charron, who considered himself--as all Frenchmen did then, andperhaps do now--far swifter of intellect than any Englishman, foundhimself not well pleased at this, and desired to know more about it.
"Nothing can be simpler," the Englishman replied; "and therefore nothingsurer. You know the old proverb--'Everything in turn, except scandal,whose turn is always.' And again another saying of our own land--'Thesecond side of the bread takes less time to toast.' We must not let thefirst side of ours be toasted; we will shun all the fire of suspicion.And to do this, you must not be seen, my dear friend. I may go abroadfreely; you must hide your gallant head until matters are ripe foraction. You know that you may trust me not to keep you in the dark a daylonger than is needful. I have got the old shopkeeper under my thumb,and can do what I please with his trading-ship. But before I place youin command I must change some more of the crew, and do it warily. Thereis an obstinate Cornishman to get rid of, who sticks to the planks likea limpet. If we throw him overboard, we shall alarm the others; if wedischarge him without showing cause, he will go to the old Admiral andtell all his suspicions. He must be got rid of in London with skill,and then we ship three or four Americans, first-rate seamen, afraid ofnothing, who will pass here as fellows from Lancashire. After that wemay run among the cruisers as we like, with the boldness and skill of acertain Captain Charron, who must be ill in his cabin when his ship isboarded."
"It is famous, it is very good, my friend. The patience I will have, andthe obedience, and the courage; and so much the more readily because mypay is good, and keeps itself going on dry land as well as sea."