CHAPTER I.
AN OLD FRIEND.
WHEN Spenser Tait took his seat at the breakfast table, he cast a lookaround, according to custom, to see that all was as orderly as he couldwish. The neatest and most methodical of men, he was positively oldmaidish in his love of regularity and tidiness. His valet, Dormer,--withhim for over fifteen years,--had been trained by such long service intothe particular ways of his master, and was almost as exacting as Taithimself in the matter of domestic details. No woman was permitted topenetrate into those chambers in Earls Street, St. James'; but had onebeen able to do so, she could have found no fault with them, either onthe score of taste or of cleanliness. The shell of this hermit crab waseloquent of the idiosyncrasies of its tenant.
The main characteristic of the breakfast room was one of severesimplicity. The carpet of green drappled brown, the curtains to match,and the furniture of oak, polished and dark. On the white cloth of thetable an appetizing breakfast was set out in silver and china, and avase of flowers showed that the little gentleman was not unmindful ofthe requirements of an artistic temperament. Even the _Times_, carefullycut and warmed, was neatly folded by the silver ringed napkin, andDormer, standing stiff and lean by his master's chair, was calmlysatisfied that no fault could be found with his work. For the pastfifteen years, save on occasions of foreign travel, the same etiquettehad been observed, the same actions performed, for, like the laws of theMedes and Persians, the habits of Tait were fixed and determined.
He was a pleasant creature of thirty-four years, small in stature,clean-shaven and brown-locked. His plump little body was clothed in awell-brushed smoking suit of maroon-colored cloth, his neat feet encasedin slippers of red morocco, and he scanned the room through agold-mounted pince nez. Neat and firm as he was, women did not care forhim in the least, and he returned the compliment by heartily dislikingthe female sex. Yet with men he was a great favorite, and the members ofhis club liked to hear the sententious speeches of this little man,delivered with point and deliberation in the smoking room from eleventill midnight. When the clock struck twelve he invariably went to bed,and no persuasion or temptation could induce him to break this excellentrule.
Dormer, a tall, thin man of Kent, who adored his precise master, wasequally as misogynistic as Tait, and silent on all occasions save whenspoken to. Then he replied in dry monosyllables, and stood bolt uprightduring such replies, in a military fashion, which he had picked up manyyears before in the army. Tait humored his oddities on account of hisfidelity, knowing that this ugly, rough-hewn specimen of humanity was astrue as steel, and entirely devoted to his interests. Nowadays it isunusual to meet with such equal appreciation between master and servant.
"I think, Dormer," said Tait, while the man ministered to his wants,"that you might call at Mudie's this morning and get me a copy of thenew novel, 'A Whim of Fate,' by John Parver. I heard last night that itcontained a description of Thorston."
"Very good, sir," replied Dormer, noting the name in his pocketbook.
"And take a seat for me at the Curtain Theater, in the fifth row of thestalls, not too near the side."
"Anything else, sir?"
"I think not," said his master, taking a morsel of toast. "I am goingdown to Richmond by the twelve o'clock train to luncheon with Mr. Freak.Lay out the serge suit."
Dormer saluted in a military fashion, and disappeared, leaving Tait toskim the paper and finish his breakfast. Methodical as ever, the littleman first read the leading articles, thence passed to the city news,perused the general information, and wound up with a glance at theadvertisements. In such order he ever proceeded, and never by any chancethought of beginning with the advertisements and working back to theleading article. Habit was everything with Spenser Tait.
As usual, his day's programme was carefully sketched out, and he knewwhat he was about to do with every moment of his time from noon tillmidnight. But his plans on this special day were upset at the outset,for scarcely had he lighted his morning pipe than the door was thrownopen and a visitor was announced.
"Mr. Larcher," said Dormer stiffly, and ushered in a tall young man witha bright face and a breezy manner.
"Hullo, little Tait!" cried the newcomer, hastily striding across theroom; "here I am again. Come from wandering up and down the earth, sir,like a certain person whom I need not mention."
"Dear me," said Tait, welcoming his guest with prim kindliness, "it isClaude Larcher. I am very glad to see you, my dear fellow, and rathersurprised; for I assure you I thought you were at the Antipodes."
"I have just returned from that quarter of the globe. Yes! Landed at thedocks yesterday from one of the Shaw-Saville line. Had a capital passagefrom New Zealand. Sea like a mill-pond from Wellington Heads to theLizard."
"Have you had breakfast, Larcher?" asked Tait, touching the bell.
"A trifle! A trifle! I could eat another. What have you? Bacon and eggs,watercress, coffee, and the best of bread and butter. Egad, Spenser, youhad the same victuals two years ago when I last called here!"
"I am a creature of habit, Claude," replied Tait sententiously; and whenDormer made his appearance gave grave directions for fresh coffee andanother dish of eggs and bacon.
Larcher drew in his chair, and with his elbows on the table eyed thelittle man with friendly eyes. They were old schoolfellows and fastfriends, though a greater contrast than that which existed between themcan scarcely be imagined. Tait, a prim, chilly misogynist; Larcher, ahot-blooded, impetuous lover of women. The one a stay-at-home, and aslave to habit; the other a roaming engineer, careless and impulsive.Yet by some vein of sympathy the pair, so unlike in looks andtemperament, were exceedingly friendly, and always glad to meet whencircumstance threw them together. Such friendship, based on no logicalgrounds, was a standing contradiction to the rule that like draws tolike.
It was scarcely to be expected that a well-favored mortal like Larchershould share his friend's distaste for the female sex. Far fromdisliking them, he sought them on all possible occasions, oftentimes tohis own disadvantage; and was generally involved in some scrapeconnected with a petticoat. Tait, who was the older of the two by fiveyears, vainly exhorted and warned his friend against such follies, butas yet his arguments had come to naught. At the age of thirty, Larcherwas still as inflammable, and answered all Tait's expostulations with alaugh of scorn.
It was easy to dower this hero with all the perfections, physical ormental, which lie within the scope of imagination, but the truth must betold at whatever cost. Claude was no Greek god, no prodigy of learning,neither an Apollo for looks, nor an Admirable Crichton for knowledge; hewas simply a well-looking young man, clean-limbed, clear-skinned,healthy, athletic, and dauntless, such as can be found by the dozen inEngland. Thews and sinews he had, but was no Samson or Hercules, yet hisstrong frame and easy grace won the heart of many a woman, while withhis own sex he passed for a true comrade, and a friend worth having.
He was an engineer, and built bridges and railways in divers quarters ofthe globe, pioneering civilization, as it were, in the most barbarousregions.
For the past ten years he had roamed all over the world, and hisadventures, begotten by a daring and reckless spirit, were alreadysufficient to fill a volume. Master of at least half a dozen tongues, hecould find his way from the tropics to the pole, and was equally at homeon the prairie as in Piccadilly. Indeed, he preferred the former, forcivilization was little to his taste, and he was infinitely more at easein Pekin than London. North and South America, Africa, China, India, heknew them all, and on this occasion had returned from a prolongedsojourn in the Antipodes, where he had been building bridges acrossrapid New Zealand rivers.
"Well, my friend," said he, addressing himself to a second meal with ahearty appetite, "I need not ask how you are. The same prim, finnickinglittle mortal as ever, I see. Five years have made no difference in you,Spenser. You've not married, I suppose?"
"Not I," returned Tait, with storm
y disgust. "You know my views on thesubject of matrimony. You might go away for one hundred years and wouldreturn to find me still a bachelor. But you, Claude----"
"Oh, I'm still in the market. I wasn't rich enough for the New Zealandbelles."
"Eh! You have five hundred a year, independent of your earnings as anengineer."
"What is the use of setting up house on a thousand a year all told,"retorted Claude coolly; "but the fact is, despite my inflammability,which you are pleased to reproach, I have not yet seen the woman I careto make Mrs. Larcher."
"Perhaps it is just as well for the woman," answered Tait dryly. "Idon't think you are cut out for a domestic life."
"I have had no experience of it, so I can't say," said Larcher, a shadepassing over his face. "You must not forget that I was left an orphan atfive years of age, Tait. If it had not been for old Hilliston, thelawyer, who looked after me and my small fortune, I don't know whatwould have become of me. All things considering, I think I have turnedout fairly decent. I have worked hard at my profession, I have not spentmy substance in riotous living, and have seen much more of life thanmost young men. All of which is self-praise, and that we know being norecommendation, give me another cup of coffee."
Tait laughed and obeyed. "What are you going to do now?" he demanded,after a pause; "stay in town, or make another dash for the wilds?"
"I'll be here for a few months, till something turns up," said Larchercarelessly. "I did very well out of that Maori land business, and boughtsome land there with the proceeds. I suppose I'll go and look up Mr.Hilliston, see all the theaters, worry you, and hunt for a wife."
"I shan't assist you in the last," retorted Tait, testily. "However, asyou are here you must stay with me for the day. What are your immediateplans?"
"Oh, I wish to call at the club and see if there are any letters! Then Iam at your disposal, unless you have a prior engagement."
"I have a luncheon at Richmond, but I'll put that off. It is not veryimportant, and a wire will arrange matters. Finish your breakfast whileI dress."
"Go, you effete dandy of an exhausted civilization. I saw you looking atmy rig-out, and I dare say it is very bad. It has been packed away forthe last five years. However, you can take me to your tailor and I'llget a fresh outfit. You won't walk down Bond Street with me unless Iassume a tall hat, patent leathers, and a frock coat."
"Oh, by the way, would you like to go to the Curtain Theater to-night?"asked Tait, vouchsafing no reply to this speech. "They are playing agood piece, and I sent for a seat for myself."
"You selfish little man; just send for two while you're about it."
"With pleasure," replied Tait, who permitted Larcher more freedom ofspeech than he did any other of his friends. "I won't be more than tenminutes dressing."
"Very good! I'll smoke a pipe during your absence, and see with whatfurther fribbles you have adorned your rooms. Then we'll go to the club,and afterward to the tailor's. I don't suppose my letters will detain melong."
In this Larcher was wrong, for his letters detained him longer than heexpected. This opened the way to a new course of life, of which at thatmoment he knew nothing. Laughing and jesting in his friend's rooms,heart-whole and untrammeled, he little knew what Fortune had in storefor him on that fateful morning. It is just as well that the future ishidden from men, else they would hardly go forward with so light a stepto face juries. Hitherto Larcher's life had been all sunshine, but nowdarknesses were rising above the horizon, and these letters, to which heso lightly alluded, were the first warnings of the coming storm.