CHAPTER XV.
MR. CLEVE VERNEY PAYS A VISIT TO ROSEMARY COURT.
THAT evoked spirit, Dingwell, was now _functus officio_, and might bedismissed. He was as much afraid of the light of London--even thegaslight--as a man of his audacity could be of anything. Still helingered there.
Mr. Larkin had repeatedly congratulated the Verney peer, and his youngfriend and patron, Cleve, upon his own masterly management, and thehappy result of the case, as he called it. And although, with scripturalwarning before him, he would be the last man in the world to say, "Isnot this great Babylon that I have builded?" Yet he did wish LordViscount Verney, and Cleve Verney, M.P., distinctly to understand that_he_, Mr. Larkin, had been the making of them. There were somethings--very many things, in fact, all desirable--which thosedistinguished persons could effect for the good attorney of Glyngden,and that excellent person in consequence presented himself diligently atVerney House.
On the morning I now speak of, he was introduced to the library, wherehe found the peer and his nephew.
"I ventured to call, my lord--how do you do, Mr. Verney?--to invite yourlordship's attention to the position of Mr. Dingwell, who is compelledby lack of funds to prolong his stay in London. He is, I may say, mostanxious to take his departure quietly and expeditiously, forConstantinople, where, I venture to think, it is expedient for allparties, that his residence should be fixed, rather than in London,where he is in hourly danger of detection and arrest, the consequence ofwhich, my lord;--it will probably have struck your lordship's rapidapprehension already,--would be, I venture to think, a very painfulinvestigation of his past life, and a concomitant discrediting of hischaracter, which although, as your lordship would point out to me, itcannot disturb that which is already settled, would yet produce anunpleasant effect out of doors, which, it is to be feared, he would takecare to aggravate by all means in his power, were he to refer hisdetention here, and consequent arrest, to any fancied economy on yourlordship's part."
"I don't quite follow you about it, Mr. Larkin," said Lord Verney, whogenerally looked a little stern when he was puzzled. "I don't quiteapprehend the drift--be good enough to sit down--about it--of yourremarks, as they bear upon Mr. Dingwell's wishes, and my conduct. Do_you_, Cleve?"
"I conjecture that Dingwell wants more money, and can't be got out ofLondon without it," said Cleve.
"Eh? Well, that _did_ occur to me; of _course_, that's plainenough--about it--and _what_ a man that must be! and--God bless me!about it--all the money he has got from me! It's incredible,Mr.--a--_Larkin_, three hundred pounds, you know, and he wanted _five_,and that absurdly enormous weekly payment besides!"
"Your lordship has exactly, as usual, touched the point, andanticipated, with your wonted accuracy, the line at the other side; andindeed, I may also say, all that may be urged by way of argument, _pro_and _con_. It is a wonderful faculty!" added Mr. Larkin, looking downwith a contemplative smile, and a little wondering shake of the head.
"Ha, ha! Something of the same sort has been remarked in our familyabout it," said the Viscount, much pleased. "It facilitates business,rather, I should hope--about it."
The attorney shook his head, reflectively, raising his hands, and said,"No one but a professional man can have an _idea_!"
"And what do you suggest?" asked Cleve, who was perhaps a little tiredof the attorney's compliments.
"Yes, what do you suggest, Mr.--Mr. _Larkin_? Your suggestion I shouldbe prepared to consider. Anything, Mr. Larkin, suggested by you _shall_be considered," said Lord Verney grandly, leaning back in his chair, andfolding his hands.
"I am much--very much--flattered by your lordship's confidence. Theformer money, I have reason to think, my lord, went to satisfy an olddebt, and I have reason to _know_ that his den has been discovered byanother creditor, from whom, even were funds at his disposal to leaveEngland to-night, escape would be difficult, if not impossible."
"How much money does he want?" asked Mr. Cleve Verney.
"A _moment_, a _moment_, please. I was going to say," said Lord Verney,"if he wants money--about it--it would be desirable to state theamount."
Mr. Larkin, thus called on, cleared his voice, and his dove-like eyescontracted, and assumed their rat-like look, and he said, watching LordVerney's face,--
"I am afraid, my lord, that less than three hundred----"
Lord Verney contracted his brows, and nodded, after a moment.
"Three hundred pounds. Less, I say, my lord, will not satisfy thecreditor, and there will remain something still in order to bring himback, and to keep him quiet there for a time; and I think, my lord, ifyou will go the length of _five_ hundred----"
"'Gad, it's growing quite serious, Mr.--Mr. Sir, I confess I don't halfunderstand this _person_, Mr. Ding--Dong--whatever it is--it's goingrather too _fast_ about it. I--I--and that's my clear opinion--" andLord Verney gazed and blinked sternly at the attorney, and patted hisfragrant pocket-handkerchief several times to his chin--"veryunreasonable and monstrous, and, considering all I've done, very_ungrateful_."
"Quite so, my lord; monstrously ungrateful. I can't describe to yourlordship the trouble I have had with that extraordinary and, I fear Imust add, fiendish person. I allude, of course, my lord, in myprivileged character as having the honour of confidential relations withyour lordship, to that unfortunate man, Dingwell. I assure you, on oneoccasion, he seized a poker in his lodgings, and threatened to dash mybrains out."
"Very good, sir," said Lord Verney, whose mind was busy upon quiteanother point; "and suppose I _do_, what do we gain, I ask, by assistinghim?"
"Simply, my lord, he is so incredibly reckless, and, as I have said,_fiendish_, that if he were disappointed, I do think he will stick atnothing, even to the length of swearing that his evidence for yourlordship was _perjured_, for the purpose of being revenged, and yourgenerosity to him pending the inquiry, or rather the preparation ofproofs, would give a colour unfortunately even to that monstrousallegation. Your lordship can have no idea--the elevation of your ownmind prevents it--of the desperate character with whom we have had todeal."
"Upon my life, sir, a pleasant position you seem to have brought meinto," said Lord Verney, flushing a good deal.
"My lord, it was inevitable," said Mr. Larkin, sadly.
"I don't think he could have helped it, really," said Cleve Verney.
"And who says he could?" asked Lord Verney, tartly. "I've all along saidit could not well be helped, and that's the reason I _did_ it, don'tyou see? but I may be allowed to say, I suppose, that the position is amost _untoward_ one; and so it is, egad!" and Lord Verney got up in hisfidget, and walked over to the window, and to the chimney-piece, and tothe table, and fiddled with a great many things.
"I remember my late brother, Shadwell Verney--he's dead, poorShadwell--had a world of trouble with a fellow--about it--who used toextort money from him--something I suppose--like this Mr. Ringwood--or Imean--you know his name--till he called in the police, and put an end toit."
"Quite true, my lord, quite true; but don't you think, my lord, such aline with Mr. Dingwell might lead to a _fraycas_, and the possibleunpleasantness to which _I_ ventured to allude? _You_ have seen him, Mr.Verney?"
"Yes; he's a beast, he really _is_; a little bit mad, I almost think."
"A little bit mad, precisely so; it really is, my lord, most melancholy.And I am so clearly of opinion that if we quarrel definitively with Mr.Dingwell, we may find ourselves in an extremely difficult position, thatwere the case my own, I should have no hesitation in satisfying Mr.Dingwell, even at a sacrifice, rather than incur the annoyance Ianticipate. If you allow me, my lord, to conduct the matter with Mr.Dingwell, I think I shall succeed in getting him away quietly."
"It seems to me a very serious sum, Mr. Larkin," said Lord Verney.
"Precisely so, my lord; serious--very serious; but your lordship made aremark once in my hearing which impressed me powerfully: it was to theeffect that where an object is to be accomplished, it is better toexpend a
little too much power, than anything too little." I think thatMr. Larkin invented this remark of Lord Verney's, which, however, hislordship was pleased to recognise, notwithstanding.
So the attorney took his departure, to call again next day.
"Clever man that Mr.--Mr. Larkin--vastly clever," said Lord Verney. "Irather think there's a great deal in what he says--it's verydisgusting--about it; but one must consider, you know--there's no harmin considering--and--and that Mr.--Dong--Dingleton, isn't it?--aboutit--a most offensive person. I must consider--I shall think it over, andgive him my ideas to-morrow."
Cleve did not like an expression which had struck him in the attorney'sface that day, and he proposed next day to write to Mr. Dingwell, andactually did so, requesting that he would be so good as to call atVerney House.
Mr. Dingwell did not come; but a note came by post, saying that thewriter, Mr. Dingwell, was not well enough to venture a call.
What I term Mr. Larkin's rat-like eyes, and a certain dark and evenwicked look that crosses the attorney's face, when they appear, had lefta profound sense of uncertainty in Cleve's mind respecting thatgentleman's character and plans. It was simply a conviction that theattorney meditated something odd about Mr. Dingwell, and that no goodman could look as he had looked.
There was no use in opening his suspicion, grounded on so slight a thingas a look, to his uncle, who, though often timid and hesitating, and insecret helpless, and at his wits' end for aid in arriving at a decision,was yet, in a matter where vanity was concerned, or a strong prejudiceor caprice involved, often incredibly obstinate.
Mr. Larkin's look teased Cleve. Larkin might grow into an influence veryimportant to that young gentleman, and was not lightly to be quarrelledwith. He would not quarrel with him; but he would see Dingwell, ifindeed that person were still in London; a fact about which he hadbegun to have some odd misgivings. The note was written in a straight,cramp hand, and Mr. Larkin's face was in the background always. He knewMr. Dingwell's address; an answer, real or forged, had reached him fromit. So, full of dark dreams and conjectures, he got into a cab, anddrove to the entrance of Rosemary Court, and knocked at Miss SarahRumble's door.
That good lady, from the shadow, looked suspiciously on him.
"Is Mr. Dingwell at home?"
"Mr. Dingwell, sir?" she repeated.
"Yes. Is he at home?"
"Mr. Dingwell, sir? _No_ sir."
"Does not Mr. Dingwell live here?"
"There _was_ a gentleman, please, sir, with a name like that. Go _back_,child," she said, sharply to Lucy Maria, who was peeping in thebackground, and who might not be edified, perhaps, by the dialogue. "Begparding, sir," she continued, as the child disappeared; "they _are_ sotiresome! There was an old gentleman lodging here, sir, please, whichhis name was like that I do remember."
Cleve Verney did not know what to think.
"Is there anyone in the house who knows Mr. Dingwell? I've come to be ofuse to him; perhaps he could see me. Will you say Mr. Verney?"
"Mr.--_what_, sir, please?"
"Verney--here's my card; perhaps it is better."
As the conversation continued, Miss Rumble had gradually come more andmore forward, closing the door more and more as she did so, so that shenow confronted Cleve upon the step, and could have shut the door at herback, had he made any attempt to get in; and she called over hershoulder to Lucy Maria, and whispered something, and gave her, Isuppose, the card; and in a minute more Miss Rumble opened the doorwide, and showed "the gentleman" upstairs, and told him on the lobby shehoped he would not be offended, but that she had such positive orders asto leave her no choice; and that in fact Mr. Dingwell was in thedrawing-room, and would be happy to see him, and almost at the samemoment she threw open the door and introduced him, with a littlecourtesy, and--
"This way, please, sir; here's the gentleman, please, sir."
There he _did_ find Mr. Dingwell, smoking a cigar, in his fez, slippers,and pea-green silk dressing-gown, with a cup of black coffee on thelittle table beside him, his _Times_ and a few magazines there also. Helooked, in vulgar parlance, "seedy," like an old fellow who had beenraking the night before, and was wofully tired, and in no very genialtemper.
"Will you excuse an old fellow, Mr. Verney, and take a chair foryourself? I'm not very well to-day. I suppose, from your note, youthought I had quitted London. It was not to be expected so old a plantshould take root; but it's sometimes not worth moving 'em again, andthey remain where they are, to wither, ha, ha, ha!"
"I should be sorry it was for any such purpose; but I am happy to findyou still here, for I was really anxious to call and thank you."
"_Anxious_--to _thank me_! Are you really _serious_, Mr. Verney?" saidDingwell, lowering his cigar again, and looking with a stern smile inhis visitor's face.
"Yes, sir; I _did_ wish to call and tell you," said Cleve, determinednot to grow angry; "and I _am_ here to say that we are very muchobliged."
"_We?_"
"Yes; my uncle and I."
"Oh, yes; well, it _is_ something. I hope the coronet becomes him, andhis robes. I venture to say he has got up the masquerading propertiesalready; it's a pity there isn't a coronation or something at hand; andI suppose he'll put up a monument to my dear friend Arthur--a mangy olddog he was, you'll allow me to say, though he was my friend, and verykind to me; and I, the most grateful fellow he ever met; I've been moregrieved about him than any other person I can remember, upon my soul andhonour--and a devilish dirty dog he was."
This last reflection was delivered in a melancholy aside, after themanner of a soliloquy, and Cleve did not exactly know how to take thisold fellow's impertinence.
"Arthur Verney--poor fellow! your uncle. He had a great deal of thepride of his family, you know, along with utter degradation. Filthydog!--pah!" And Mr. Dingwell lifted both his hands, and actually usedthat unpleasant utensil called a "spittoon," which is seen in taverns,to give expression, it seemed, to his disgust.
"But he had his pride, dear Arthur; he was proud, and wished for atombstone. When he was dying, he said, 'I should like a monument--not ofcourse in a cathedral, for I have been living so darkly, and a good dealtalked about; but there's an old church or abbey near Malory (that I'msure was the name of the place) where our family has been accustomed tobury its quiet respectabilities and its _mauvais sujets_; and I thinkthey might give me a pretty little monument there, quite quietly.' Ithink you'll do it, for you're a grateful person, and like thinkingpeople; and he certainly did a great deal for his family by going out ofit, and the little vanity of a monument would not cost much, and, as hesaid himself, no one would ever see it; and I promised, if I ever had anopportunity, to mention the subject to your uncle."
Cleve bowed.
"'And,' said he, 'there will be a little conflict of feeling. I am surethey'd like the _monument_, but they would not make an ostentation of_me_. But remind them of my Aunt Deborah. Poor old girl! she ran awaywith a fiddler.' Egad, sir! these were his very words, and I've found,on inquiring here, they were quite true. She ran away with afiddler--egad! and I don't know how many little fiddlers she had; and,by Jove! he said if I came back I should recognise a possible cousin inevery street-fiddler I met with, for music is a talent that runs infamilies. And so, when Atropos cut his fiddlestring, and he died, shetook, he said, to selling mutton pies, for her maintenance, in Chester,and being properly proud as a Verney, though as a fiddler's widownecessitous, he said she used to cry, behind her little table, 'Hotmutton pies!' and then, _sotto voce_, 'I hope nobody hears me;' and youmay rely upon that family anecdote, for I had it from the lips of thatnotorious member of your family, your uncle Arthur, and he hoped thatthey would comply with the tradition, and reconcile the Verney pridewith Verney exigencies, and concede him the secret celebration of amonument."
"If you are serious----"
"Serious about a monument, sir! who the devil could be lively on such asubject?" and Mr. Dingwell looked unaccountably angry, and ground histeeth, and grew white. "A
monument, cheap and nasty, I dare say; itisn't much for a poor devil from whom you've got everything. I supposeyou'll speak to your uncle, sir."
"I'll speak to him, sir."
"Yes, _do_, pray, and prevail. I'm not very strong, sir, and there'ssomething that remains for you and me to do, sir."
"What is that?"
"To rot under ground, sir; and as I shall go first, it would be pleasantto me to be able to present your affectionate regards to your uncle,when I meet him, and tell him that you had complied with his littlefancy about the monument, as he seemed to make a point that his nameshould not be blotted totally from the records of his family."
Cleve was rather confirmed in his suspicions about the sanity of thisodious old man--as well he might--and, at all events, was resolved toendure him without a row.
"I shall certainly remember, and mention all you have said, sir," saidCleve.
"Yes," said the old man, in a grim meditation, looking down, and hechucked away the stump of his cigar, "it's a devilish hard case,Kismet!" he muttered.
"I suppose you find our London climate very different from that you havegrown accustomed to?" said Cleve, approaching the point on which hedesired some light.
"I lived in London for a long time, sir. I was--as perhaps youknow--junior partner in the great Greek house of Prinkipi andDingwell--d----n Prinkipi! say I. He ran us into trouble, sir; then camea smash, sir, and Prinkipi levanted, making a scapegoat of me, the mostvilified and persecuted Greek merchant that ever came on 'Change! And,egad! if they could catch me, even now, I believe they'd bury me in adungeon for the rest of my days, which, in that case, would not be many.I'm here, therefore, I may say, at the risk of my life."
"A very anxious situation, indeed, Mr. Dingwell; and I conclude youintend but a short stay here?"
"Quite the contrary, sir. I mean to stay as long as I please, and thatmay be as long as I live."
"Oh! I had thought from something that Mr. Larkin said," began CleveVerney.
"Larkin! He's a religious man, and does not put his candle under abushel. He's very particular to say his prayers; and provided he says_them_, he takes leave to say what he likes beside."
Mr. Dingwell was shooting his arrows as freely as Cupid does; but Clevedid not take this satire for more than its worth.
"He may think it natural I should wish to be gone, and so I do,"continued the old man, setting down his coffee cup, "if I could get awaywithout the trouble of going, or was sure of a tolerably comfortableberth, at my journey's end; but I'm old, and travelling shakes me topieces, and I have enemies elsewhere, as well as here; and thenewspapers have been printing sketches of my life and adventures, andpoking up attention about me, and awakening the slumbering recollectionof persons by whom I had been, in effect, forgotten, _every_-where. Norest for the wicked, sir. I'm pursued; and, in fact, what little peace Imight have enjoyed in this, the closing period of my life, has beenirreparably wrecked by my visit and public appearance here, to placeyour uncle, and by consequence _you_, in the position now secured toyou. What do you think of me?"
"I think, sir, you have done us a great service; and I know we are verymuch obliged," said Cleve, with his most engaging smile.
"And do you know what I think of myself? I think I'm a d----d fool,unless I look for some advantage."
"Don't you think, sir, you have found it, on the whole, advantageous,your coming here?" insinuated Cleve.
"Barren, sir, as a voyage on the Dead Sea. The test is this--what have Iby it? not five pounds, sir, in the world. Now, I've opened my mind alittle to you upon this subject, and I'm of the same mind still; and ifI've opened Aladdin's garden to you, with its fruitage of emeralds,rubies, and so forth, I expect to fill my snuff-box with the filings andchippings of your gigantic jewellery."
Cleve half repented his visit, now that the presence of the insatiableMr. Dingwell, and his evident appetite for more money, had justified therepresentations of the suspected attorney.
"I shall speak to Mr. Larkin on the subject," said Cleve Verney.
"D----n Larkin, sir! Speak to me."
"But, Mr. Dingwell, I have really, as I told you before, no authority tospeak; and no one has the least power in the matter but my uncle."
"And what the devil did you come here for?" demanded Mr. Dingwell,suddenly blazing up into one of his unaccountable furies. "I suppose youexpected me to congratulate you on your success, and to ask leave to seeyour uncle in his coronet--ha, ha, ha!--or his cap and bells, orwhatever he wears. By ---- sir, I hope he holds his head high, andstruts like a peacock, and has pleasant dreams; time enough fornightmares, sir, hereafter, eh? Uneasy rests the head that wears thecrown! Good evening, sir; I'll talk to Mr. Larkin."
And with these words Mr. Dingwell got up, looking unaccountably angry,and made a half-sarcastic, half-furious bow, wherewith he dismissed Mr.Cleve Verney, with more distinct convictions than ever that the oldgentleman was an unmitigated beast, and more than half a lunatic.