CHAPTER XIV
A GOOD MAN'S DILEMMA
Ten minutes later Mr. Thomasson slid back the bolt, and opening thedoor, glanced furtively up and down the passage. Seeing no one, he cameout, closed the door behind him, and humming an air from the 'BuonaFiglinola,' which was then the fashion, returned slowly, and withapparent deliberation, to the east wing. There he hastened to hidehimself in a small closet of a chamber, which he had that morningsecured on the second floor, and having bolted the door behind him, heplumped down on the scanty bed, and stared at the wall, he was the preyof a vast amazement.
'Jupiter!' he muttered at last, 'what a--a Pactolus I have missed! Threemonths ago, two months ago, she would have gone on her knees to marryme! And with all that money--Lord! I would have died Bishop of Oxford.It is monstrous! Positively, I am fit to kill myself when I thinkof it!'
He paused awhile to roll the morsel on the palate of his imagination,and found that the pathos of it almost moved him to tears. But beforelong he fell from the clouds to more practical matters. The secret washis, but what was he going to do with it? Where make his market of it?One by one he considered all the persons concerned. To begin with, therewas her ladyship. But the knowledge did not greatly affect theviscountess, and he did not trust her. He dismissed the thought ofapplying to her. It was the same with Dunborough; money or no money wasall one to him, he would take the girl if he could get her. He wasdismissed as equally hopeless. Soane came next; but Sir George eitherknew the secret, or must know it soon; and though his was a case thetutor pondered long, he discerned no profit he could claim from him.Moreover, he had not much stomach for driving a bargain with thebaronet; so in the end Sir George too was set aside.
There remained only the Buona Figliuola--the girl herself. 'I might paymy court to her,' the tutor thought, 'but she would have a spite againstme for last night's work, and I doubt I could not do much. To be sure, Imight put her on her guard against Dunborough, and trust to hergratitude; but it is ten to one she would not believe me. Or I could lethim play his trick--if he is fool enough to put his neck in a noose--andstep in and save her at the last moment. Ah!' Mr. Thomasson continued,looking up to the ceiling in a flabby ecstasy of appreciation, 'If I hadthe courage! That were a game to play indeed, Frederick Thomasson!'
It was, but it was hazardous; and the schemer rose and walked the floor,striving to discover a safer mode of founding his claim. He found none,however; and presently, with a wry face, he took out a letter which hehad received on the eve of his departure from Oxford--a letter from adun, threatening process and arrest. The sum was one which a year'sstipend of a fat living would discharge; and until the receipt of theletter the tutor, long familiar with embarrassment, had taken the matterlightly. But the letter was to the point, and meant business--a spunginghouse and the Fleet; and with the cold shade of the Rules in immediateprospect, Mr. Thomasson saw himself at his wits' end. He thought andthought, and presently despair bred in him a bastard courage.
Buoyed up by this he tried to picture the scene; the lonely road, thecarriage, the shrieking girl, the ruffians looking fearfully up and downas they strove to silence her; and himself running to the rescue; as Mr.Burchell ran with the big stick, in Mr. Goldsmith's novel, which he hadread a few months before. Then the struggle. He saw himselfknocked--well, pushed down; after all, with care, he might play a finepart without much risk. The men might fly either at sight of him, orwhen he drew nearer and added his shouts to the girl's cries; or--orsome one else might come up, by chance or summoned by the uproar! In aminute it would be over; in a minute--and what a rich reward hemight reap.
Nevertheless he did not feel sure he would be able to do it. His heartthumped, and his smile grew sickly, and he passed his tongue again andagain over his dry lips, as he thought of the venture. But do it or notwhen the time came, he would at least give himself the chance. He wouldattend the girl wherever she went, dog her, watch her, hang on herskirts; so, if the thing happened, he would be at hand, and if he hadthe courage, would save her.
'It should--it should stand me in a thousand!' he muttered, wiping hisdamp brow, 'and that would put me on my legs.'
He put her gratitude at that; and it was a great sum, a rich bribe. Hethought of the money lovingly, and of the feat with trembling, and tookhis hat and unlocked his door and went downstairs. He spied about himcautiously until he learned that Mr. Dunborough had departed; then hewent boldly to the stables, and inquired and found that the gentlemanhad started for Bristol in a post-chaise. 'In a middling black temper,'the ostler added, 'saving your reverence's presence.'
That ascertained, the tutor needed no more. He knew that Dunborough, onhis way to foreign service, had lain ten days in Bristol, whistling fora wind; that he had landed there also on his return, and made--on hisown authority--some queer friends there. Bristol, too, was the port forthe plantations; a slave-mart under the rose, with the roughest of allthe English seatown populations. There were houses at Bristol wherecrimping was the least of the crimes committed; in the docks, where thegreat ships, laden with sugar and tobacco, sailed in and out in theirseasons, lay sloops and skippers, ready to carry all comers, criminaland victim alike, beyond the reach of the law. The very name gave Mr.Thomasson pause; he could have done with Gretna--which Lord Hardwicke'sMarriage Act had lately raised to importance--or Berwick, or Harwich, orDover. But Bristol had a grisly sound. From Marlborough it lay no morethan forty miles away by the Chippenham and Marshfield road; apost-chaise and four stout horses might cover the distance infour hours.
He felt, as he sneaked into the house, that the die was cast. The otherintended to do it then. And that meant--'Oh, Lord,' he muttered, wipinghis brow, 'I shall never dare! If he is there himself, I shall neverdare!' As he crawled upstairs he went hot one moment and shivered thenext; and did not know whether he was glad or sorry that the chancewould be his to take.
Fortunately, on reaching the first floor he remembered that LadyDunborough had requested him to convey her compliments to Dr. Addington,with an inquiry how Lord Chatham did. The tutor felt that a commonplaceinterview of this kind would settle his nerves; and having learned theposition of Dr. Addington's apartments, he found his way down the snugpassage of which we know and knocked at the door. A voice, disagreeablyraised, was speaking on the other side of the door, but paused at thesound of his knock. Some one said 'Come in,' and he entered.
He found Dr. Addington standing on the hearth, stiff as a poker, andswelling with dignity. Facing him stood Mr. Fishwick. The attorney,flustered and excited, cast a look at Mr. Thomasson as if his entrancewere an added grievance; but that done, went on with his complaint.
'I tell you, sir,' he said, 'I do not understand this. His lordship wasable to travel yesterday, and last evening he was well enough to see SirGeorge Soane.'
'He did not see him,' the physician answered stiffly. There is no classwhich extends less indulgence to another than the higher grade ofprofessional men to the lower grade. While to Sir George Mr. Fishwickwas an odd little man, comic, and not altogether inestimable, to Dr.Addington he was an anathema.
'I said only, sir, that he was well enough to see him,' the lawyerretorted querulously. 'Be that as it may, his lordship was not seriouslyill yesterday. To-day I have business of the utmost importance with him,and am willing to wait upon him at any hour. Nevertheless you tell methat I cannot see him to-day, nor to-morrow--'
'Nor in all probability the next day,' the doctor answered grimly.
Mr. Fishwick's voice rose almost to a shriek. 'Nor the next day?' hecried.
'No, nor the next day, so far as I can judge.'
'But I must see him! I tell you, sir, I must see him,' the lawyerejaculated. 'I have the most important business with him!'
'The most important?'
'The most important!'
'My dear sir,' Dr. Addington said, raising his hand and clearly near theend of his patience, 'my answer is that you shall see him--when he iswell enough to be seen, and chooses to see you, and not before!
Formyself, whether you see him now or never see him, is no business ofmine. But it _is_ my business to be sure that his lordship does not riska life which is of inestimable value to his country.'
'But--but yesterday he was well enough to travel!' murmured the lawyer,somewhat awed. 'I--I do not like this!'
The doctor looked at the door.
'I--I believe I am being kept from his lordship!' Mr. Fishwickpersisted, stuttering nervously. 'And there are people whose interest itis to keep me from his lordship. I warn you, sir, that if anythinghappens in the meantime--'
The doctor rang the bell.
'I shall hold you responsible!' Mr. Fishwick cried passionately. 'Iconsider this a most mysterious illness. I repeat, I--'
But apparently that was the last straw. 'Mysterious?' the doctor cried,his face purple with indignation. 'Leave the room, sir! You are notsane, sir! By God, you ought to be shut up, sir! You ought not to beallowed to go about. Do you think that you are the only person who wantsto see His Majesty's Minister? Here is a courier come to-day from HisGrace the Duke of Grafton, and to-morrow there will be a score, and aking's messenger from His Majesty among them--and all this trouble isgiven by a miserable, little, paltry, petti--Begone, sir, before I saytoo much!' he continued trembling with anger. And then to the servant,'John, the door! the door! And see that this person does not trouble meagain. Be good enough to communicate in writing, sir, if you haveanything to say.'
With which poor Mr. Fishwick was hustled out, protesting but notconvinced. It is seldom the better side of human nature that lawyerssee; nor is an attorney's office, or a barrister's chamber, the soil inwhich a luxuriant crop of confidence is grown. In common with manypersons of warm feelings, but narrow education, Mr. Fishwick was readyto believe on the smallest evidence--or on no evidence at all--that therich and powerful were leagued against his client; that justice, if hewere not very sharp, would be denied him; that the heavy purse had aknack of outweighing the righteous cause, even in England and in theeighteenth century. And the fact that all his hopes were staked on thiscase, that all his resources were embarked in it, that it had fallen, asit were, from heaven into his hands--wherefore the greater the pity ifthings went amiss--rendered him peculiarly captious and impracticable.After this every day, nay, every hour, that passed without bringing himto Lord Chatham's presence augmented his suspense and doubled hisanxiety. To be put off, not one day, but two days, three days--whatmight not happen in three days!--was a thing intolerable, insufferable;a thing to bring the heavens down in pity on his head! What wonder if herebelled hourly; and being routed, as we have seen him routed, muttereddark hints in Julia's ear, and, snubbed in that quarter also, had noresource but to shut himself up in his sleeping-place, and there broodmiserably over his suspicions and surmises?
Even when the lapse of twenty-four hours brought the swarm of couriers,messengers, and expresses which Dr. Addington had foretold; when theHigh Street of Marlborough--a name henceforth written on the page ofhistory--became but a slowly moving line of coaches and chariots bearingthe select of the county to wait on the great Minister; when the littletown itself began to throb with unusual life, and to take on airs offashion, by reason of the crowd that lay in it; when the Duke ofGrafton himself was reported to be but a stage distant, and theredetained by the Earl's express refusal to see him; when the very _KING_,it was rumoured, was coming on the same business; when, in a word, itbecame evident that the eyes of half England were turned to the CastleInn at Marlborough, where England's great statesman lay helpless, andgave no sign, though the wheels of state creaked and all but stoodstill--even then Mr. Fishwick refused to be satisfied, declined to becomforted. In place of viewing this stir and bustle, this coming andgoing as a perfect confirmation of Dr. Addington's statement, and aproof of his integrity, he looked askance at it. He saw in it ademonstration of the powers ranked against him and the principalities hehad to combat; he felt, in face of it, how weak, how poor, howinsignificant he was; and at one time despaired, and at another was in afrenzy, at one time wearied Julia with prophecies of treachery, atanother poured his forebodings into the more sympathetic bosom of theelder woman. The reader may laugh; but if he has ever staked his all ona cast, if he has taken up a hand of twelve trumps, only to hear theominous word 'misdeal!' he will find something in Mr. Fishwick'sattitude neither unnatural nor blameworthy.