Read The Romany Rye Page 32


  CHAPTER XXVII

  FRANCIS ARDRY--HIS MISFORTUNES--DOG AND LION FIGHT--GREAT MEN OF THEWORLD

  A few days after the circumstance which I have last commemorated, itchanced that, as I was standing at the door of the inn, one of thenumerous stage-coaches which were in the habit of stopping there, droveup, and several passengers got down. I had assisted a woman with acouple of children to dismount, and had just delivered to her a band-box,which appeared to be her only property, which she had begged me to fetchdown from the roof, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and heard avoice exclaim, 'Is it possible, old fellow, that I find you in thisplace?' I turned round, and wrapped in a large blue cloak, I beheld mygood friend Francis Ardry. {163a} I shook him most warmly by the hand,and said, 'If you are surprised to see me, I am no less so to see you,where are you bound to?'

  'I am bound for L---, {163b} at any rate I am booked for that seaport,'said my friend in reply.

  'I am sorry for it,' said I, 'for in that case we shall have to part in aquarter of an hour, the coach by which you came stopping no longer.'

  'And whither are you bound?' demanded my friend.

  'I am stopping at present in this house, quite undetermined as to what todo.'

  'Then come along with me,' said Francis Ardry.

  'That I can scarcely do,' said I, 'I have a horse in the stall which Icannot afford to ruin by racing to L--- by the side of your coach.'

  My friend mused for a moment: 'I have no particular business at L---,'said he; 'I was merely going thither to pass a day or two, till anaffair, in which I am deeply interested, at C--- {164} shall come off. Ithink I shall stay with you for four-and-twenty hours at least; I havebeen rather melancholy of late, and cannot afford to part with a friendlike you at the present moment; it is an unexpected piece of good fortuneto have met you; and I have not been very fortunate of late,' he added,sighing.

  'Well,' said I, 'I am glad to see you once more, whether fortunate ornot; where is your baggage?'

  'Yon trunk is mine,' said Francis, pointing to a trunk of black Russianleather upon the coach.

  'We will soon have it down,' said I, and at a word which I gave to one ofthe hangers-on at the inn, the trunk was taken from the top of the coach.'Now,' said I to Francis Ardry, 'follow me, I am a person of someauthority in this house;' thereupon I led Francis Ardry into the house,and a word which I said to a waiter forthwith installed Francis Ardry ina comfortable private sitting-room, and his trunk in the very bestsleeping-room of our extensive establishment.

  It was now about one o'clock: Francis Ardry ordered dinner for two, to beready at four, and a pint of sherry to be brought forthwith, which Irequested my friend the waiter might be the very best, and which ineffect turned out as I requested; we sat down, and when we had drank toeach other's health, Frank requested me to make known to him how I hadcontrived to free myself from my embarrassments in London, what I hadbeen about since I quitted that city, and the present posture of myaffairs.

  I related to Francis Ardry how I had composed the Life of Joseph Sell,and how the sale of it to the bookseller had enabled me to quit Londonwith money in my pocket, which had supported me during a long course oframble in the country, into the particulars of which I, however, did notenter with any considerable degree of fulness. I summed up my account bysaying that 'I was at present a kind of overlooker in the stables of theinn, had still some pounds in my purse, and, moreover, a capital horse inthe stall.'

  'No very agreeable posture of affairs,' said Francis Ardry, lookingrather seriously at me.

  'I make no complaints,' said I, 'my prospects are not very bright, it istrue, but sometimes I have visions, both waking and sleeping, which,though always strange, are invariably agreeable. Last night, in mychamber near the hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed over an almostinterminable wilderness--an enormous wall rose before me, the wall,methought, was the great wall of China:--strange figures appeared to bebeckoning to me from the top of the wall; such visions are not exactly tobe sneered at. Not that such phantasmagoria,' said I, raising my voice,'are to be compared for a moment with such desirable things as fashion,fine clothes, cheques from uncles, parliamentary interest, the love ofsplendid females. Ah! woman's love,' said I, and sighed.

  'What's the matter with the fellow?' said Francis Ardry.

  'There is nothing like it,' said I.

  'Like what?'

  'Love, divine love,' said I.

  'Confound love,' said Francis Ardry, 'I hate the very name; I have mademyself a pretty fool by it, but trust me for ever being caught at suchfolly again. In an evil hour I abandoned my former pursuits andamusements for it; in one morning spent at Joey's there was more realpleasure than in--'

  'Surely,' said I, 'you are not hankering after dog-fighting again, asport which none but the gross and unrefined care anything for? No,one's thoughts should be occupied by something higher and more rationalthan dog-fighting; and what better than love--divine love? Oh, there'snothing like it!'

  'Pray, don't talk nonsense,' said Francis Ardry.

  'Nonsense,' said I; 'why I was repeating, to the best of my recollection,what I heard you say on a former occasion.'

  'If ever I talked such stuff,' said Francis Ardry, 'I was a fool; andindeed I cannot deny that I have been one: no, there is no denying that Ihave been a fool. What do you think? That false Annette {165} hascruelly abandoned me.'

  'Well,' said I, 'perhaps you have yourself to thank for her having doneso; did you never treat her with coldness, and repay her marks ofaffectionate interest with strange fits of eccentric humour?'

  'Lord! how little you know of women,' said Francis Ardry; 'had I done asyou suppose, I should probably have possessed her at the present moment.I treated her in a manner diametrically opposite to that. I loaded herwith presents, was always most assiduous to her, always at her feet, as Imay say, yet she nevertheless abandoned me--and for whom? I am almostashamed to say--for a fiddler.'

  I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry followed my example, and thenproceeded to detail to me the treatment which he had experienced fromAnnette, and from what he said, it appeared that her conduct to him hadbeen in the highest degree reprehensible; notwithstanding he had indulgedher in everything, she was never civil to him, but loaded him continuallywith taunts and insults, and had finally, on his being unable to supplyher with a sum of money which she had demanded, decamped from thelodgings which he had taken for her, carrying with her all the presentswhich at various times he had bestowed upon her, and had put herselfunder the protection of a gentleman who played the bassoon at the ItalianOpera, at which place it appeared that her sister had lately been engagedas a danseuse. My friend informed me that at first he had experiencedgreat agony at the ingratitude of Annette, but at last had made up hismind to forget her, and in order more effectually to do so, had leftLondon with the intention of witnessing a fight, which was shortly comingoff at a town in these parts, between some dogs and a lion; {166} whichcombat, he informed me, had for some time past been looked forward towith intense eagerness by the gentlemen of the sporting world.

  I commended him for his resolution, at the same time advising him not togive up his mind entirely to dog-fighting, as he had formerly done, but,when the present combat should be over, to return to his rhetoricalstudies, and above all to marry some rich and handsome lady on the firstopportunity, as, with his person and expectations, he had only to sue forthe hand of the daughter of a marquis to be successful, telling him, witha sigh, that all women were not Annettes, and that upon the whole therewas nothing like them. To which advice he answered, that he intended toreturn to rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should be over, but that henever intended to marry, having had enough of women; adding, that he wasglad he had no sister, as, with the feelings which he entertained withrespect to her sex, he should be unable to treat her with commonaffection, and concluded by repeating a proverb which he had learnt froman Arab whom he had met at Venice, to the effect that, 'one who has beenstung by a snake,
shivers at the sight of a string.'

  After a little more conversation, we strolled to the stable, where myhorse was standing; my friend, who was a connoisseur in horse-flesh,surveyed the animal with attention, and after inquiring where and how Ihad obtained him, asked what I intended to do with him; on my telling himthat I was undetermined, and that I was afraid the horse was likely toprove a burden to me, he said, 'It is a noble animal, and if you mindwhat you are about, you may make a small fortune by him. I do not wantsuch an animal myself, nor do I know any one who does; but a greathorse-fair will be held shortly at a place where, it is true, I havenever been, but of which I have heard a great deal from my acquaintances,where it is said a first-rate horse is always sure to fetch its value;that place is Horncastle, in Lincolnshire; you should take him thither.'

  Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and after dinner partook of abottle of the best port which the inn afforded. After a few glasses, wehad a great deal of conversation; I again brought the subject of marriageand love, divine love, upon the carpet, but Francis almost immediatelybegged me to drop it; and on my having the delicacy to comply, hereverted to dog-fighting, on which he talked well and learnedly; amongstother things, he said that it was a princely sport of great antiquity,and quoted from Quintus Curtius to prove that the princes of India musthave been of the fancy, they having, according to that author, treatedAlexander to a fight between certain dogs and a lion. Becoming,notwithstanding my friend's eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of thesubject, I began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry said he was oneof the two great men whom the world has produced, the other beingNapoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was a greater man thaneither; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save what he hadgathered from the play of Timour the Tartar. 'No,' said he; 'Alexanderand Napoleon are the great men of the world, their names are knowneverywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards of two thousand years, butthe very English bumpkins sometimes christen their boys by the name ofAlexander--can there be a greater evidence of his greatness? As forNapoleon, there are some parts of India in which his bust is worshipped.'Wishing to make up a triumvirate I mentioned the name of Wellington, towhich Francis Ardry merely said, 'bah!' and resumed the subject ofdog-fighting.

  Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the next, and thendeparted to the dog and lion fight; I never saw him afterwards, andmerely heard of him once after the lapse of some years, and what I thenheard was not exactly what I could have wished to hear. He did not makemuch of the advantages which he possessed, a pity, for how great werethose advantages--person, intellect, eloquence, connection, riches! yet,with all these advantages, one thing highly needful seems to have beenwanting in Francis. A desire, a craving, to perform something great andgood. Oh! what a vast deal may be done with intellect, courage, riches,accompanied by the desire of doing something great and good! Why, aperson may carry the blessings of civilization and religion to barbarous,yet at the same time to beautiful and romantic lands; and what a triumphthere is for him who does so! What a crown of glory! of far greatervalue that those surrounding the brows of your mere conquerors. Yet whohas done so in these times? Not many; not three, not two, somethingseems to have been always wanting: there is, however, one instance inwhich the various requisites have been united, and the crown, the mostdesirable in the world--at least which I consider to be the mostdesirable--achieved, and only one, that of Brooke of Borneo. {168}