THE RAJAH’S DIAMOND
STORY OF THE BANDBOX
UP to the age of sixteen, at a private school and afterwards at one ofthose great institutions for which England is justly famous, Mr. HarryHartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. At thatperiod, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and his onlysurviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was permittedthenceforward to spend his time in the attainment of petty and purelyelegant accomplishments. Two years later, he was left an orphan andalmost a beggar. For all active and industrious pursuits, Harry wasunfitted alike by nature and training. He could sing romantic ditties,and accompany himself with discretion on the piano; he was a gracefulalthough a timid cavalier; he had a pronounced taste for chess; andnature had sent him into the world with one of the most engagingexteriors that can well be fancied. Blond and pink, with dove’s eyes anda gentle smile, he had an air of agreeable tenderness and melancholy, andthe most submissive and caressing manners. But when all is said, he wasnot the man to lead armaments of war, or direct the councils of a State.
A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the time ofhis bereavement, the position of private secretary to Major-General SirThomas Vandeleur, C.B. Sir Thomas was a man of sixty, loud-spoken,boisterous, and domineering. For some reason, some service the nature ofwhich had been often whispered and repeatedly denied, the Rajah ofKashgar had presented this officer with the sixth known diamond of theworld. The gift transformed General Vandeleur from a poor into a wealthyman, from an obscure and unpopular soldier into one of the lions ofLondon society; the possessor of the Rajah’s Diamond was welcome in themost exclusive circles; and he had found a lady, young, beautiful, andwell-born, who was willing to call the diamond hers even at the price ofmarriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly said at the timethat, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted another; certainlyLady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest water in her own person,but she showed herself to the world in a very costly setting; and she wasconsidered by many respectable authorities, as one among the three orfour best dressed women in England.
Harry’s duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had adislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his lingers; andthe charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew him often from thelibrary to the boudoir. He had the prettiest ways among women, couldtalk fashions with enjoyment, and was never more happy than whencriticising a shade of ribbon, or running on an errand to the milliner’s.In short, Sir Thomas’s correspondence fell into pitiful arrears, and myLady had another lady’s maid.
At last the General, who was one of the least patient of militarycommanders, arose from his place in a violent access of passion, andindicated to his secretary that he had no further need for his services,with one of those explanatory gestures which are most rarely employedbetween gentlemen. The door being unfortunately open, Mr. Hartley felldownstairs head foremost.
He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in theGeneral’s house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or lessdoubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of thebest, and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of LadyVandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a more emphatic name.
Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he hurriedto the boudoir and recounted his sorrows.
“You know very well, my dear Harry,” replied Lady Vandeleur, for shecalled him by name like a child or a domestic servant, “that you never byany chance do what the General tells you. No more do I, you may say.But that is different. A woman can earn her pardon for a good year ofdisobedience by a single adroit submission; and, besides, no one ismarried to his private secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; butsince you cannot stay longer in a house where you have been insulted, Ishall wish you good-bye, and I promise you to make the General smart forhis behaviour.”
Harry’s countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on LadyVandeleur with a tender reproach.
“My Lady,” said he, “what is an insult? I should think little indeed ofany one who could not forgive them by the score. But to leave one’sfriends; to tear up the bonds of affection—”
He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked him, and he began toweep.
Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious expression. “This littlefool,” she thought, “imagines himself to be in love with me. Why shouldhe not become my servant instead of the General’s? He is good-natured,obliging, and understands dress; and besides it will keep him out ofmischief. He is positively too pretty to be unattached.” That night shetalked over the General, who was already somewhat ashamed of hisvivacity; and Harry was transferred to the feminine department, where hislife was little short of heavenly. He was always dressed with uncommonnicety, wore delicate flowers in his button-hole, and could entertain avisitor with tact and pleasantry. He took a pride in servility to abeautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur’s commands as so many marks offavour; and was pleased to exhibit himself before other men, who deridedand despised him, in his character of male lady’s-maid and man milliner.Nor could he think enough of his existence from a moral point of view.Wickedness seemed to him an essentially male attribute, and to pass one’sdays with a delicate woman, and principally occupied about trimmings, wasto inhabit an enchanted isle among the storms of life.
One fine morning he came into the drawing-room and began to arrange somemusic on the top of the piano. Lady Vandeleur, at the other end of theapartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her brother, CharliePendragon, an elderly young man, much broken with dissipation, and verylame of one foot. The private secretary, to whose entrance they paid noregard, could not avoid overhearing a part of their conversation.
“To-day or never,” said the lady. “Once and for all, it shall be doneto-day.”
“To-day, if it must be,” replied the brother, with a sigh. “But it is afalse step, a ruinous step, Clara; and we shall live to repent itdismally.”
Lady Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and somewhat strangely in theface.
“You forget,” she said; “the man must die at last.”
“Upon my word, Clara,” said Pendragon, “I believe you are the mostheartless rascal in England.”
“You men,” she returned, “are so coarsely built, that you can neverappreciate a shade of meaning. You are yourselves rapacious, violent,immodest, careless of distinction; and yet the least thought for thefuture shocks you in a woman. I have no patience with such stuff. Youwould despise in a common banker the imbecility that you expect to findin us.”
“You are very likely right,” replied her brother; “you were alwayscleverer than I. And, anyway, you know my motto: The family before all.”
“Yes, Charlie,” she returned, taking his hand in hers, “I know your mottobetter than you know it yourself. ‘And Clara before the family!’ Is notthat the second part of it? Indeed, you are the best of brothers, and Ilove you dearly.”
Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by these familyendearments.
“I had better not be seen,” said he. “I understand my part to a miracle,and I’ll keep an eye on the Tame Cat.”
“Do,” she replied. “He is an abject creature, and might ruin all.”
She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brotherwithdrew by the boudoir and the back stair.
“Harry,” said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon asthey were alone, “I have a commission for you this morning. But youshall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled.”
She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of half-motherly pridethat caused great contentment to poor Harry; and he professed himselfcharmed to find an opportunity of serving her.
“It is another of our great secrets,” she went on archly, “and no onemust know of it but my secretary and me. Sir Thomas would make thesaddest disturbance; and if you only knew
how weary I am of these scenes!Oh, Harry, Harry, can you explain to me what makes you men so violent andunjust? But, indeed, I know you cannot; you are the only man in theworld who knows nothing of these shameful passions; you are so good,Harry, and so kind; you, at least, can be a woman’s friend; and, do youknow? I think you make the others more ugly by comparison.”
“It is you,” said Harry gallantly, “who are so kind to me. You treat melike—”
“Like a mother,” interposed Lady Vandeleur; “I try to be a mother to you.Or, at least,” she corrected herself with a smile, “almost a mother. Iam afraid I am too young to be your mother really. Let us say a friend—adear friend.”
She paused long enough to let her words take effect in Harry’ssentimental quarters, but not long enough to allow him a reply.
“But all this is beside our purpose,” she resumed. “You will find abandbox in the left-hand side of the oak wardrobe; it is underneath thepink slip that I wore on Wednesday with my Mechlin. You will take itimmediately to this address,” and she gave him a paper, “but do not, onany account, let it out of your hands until you have received a receiptwritten by myself. Do you understand? Answer, if you please—answer!This is extremely important, and I must ask you to pay some attention.”
Harry pacified her by repeating her instructions perfectly; and she wasjust going to tell him more when General Vandeleur flung into theapartment, scarlet with anger, and holding a long and elaboratemilliner’s bill in his hand.
“Will you look at this, madam?” cried he. “Will you have the goodness tolook at this document? I know well enough you married me for my money,and I hope I can make as great allowances as any other man in theservice; but, as sure as God made me, I mean to put a period to thisdisreputable prodigality.”
“Mr. Hartley,” said Lady Vandeleur, “I think you understand what you haveto do. May I ask you to see to it at once?”
“Stop,” said the General, addressing Harry, “one word before you go.”And then, turning again to Lady Vandeleur, “What is this preciousfellow’s errand?” he demanded. “I trust him no further than I doyourself, let me tell you. If he had as much as the rudiments ofhonesty, he would scorn to stay in this house; and what he does for hiswages is a mystery to all the world. What is his errand, madam? and whyare you hurrying him away?”
“I supposed you had something to say to me in private,” replied the lady.
“You spoke about an errand,” insisted the General. “Do not attempt todeceive me in my present state of temper. You certainly spoke about anerrand.”
“If you insist on making your servants privy to our humiliatingdissensions,” replied Lady Vandeleur, “perhaps I had better ask Mr.Hartley to sit down. No?” she continued; “then you may go, Mr. Hartley.I trust you may remember all that you have heard in this room; it may beuseful to you.”
Harry at once made his escape from the drawing-room; and as he ranupstairs he could hear the General’s voice upraised in declamation, andthe thin tones of Lady Vandeleur planting icy repartees at every opening.How cordially he admired the wife! How skilfully she could evade anawkward question! with what secure effrontery she repeated herinstructions under the very guns of the enemy! and on the other hand, howhe detested the husband!
There had been nothing unfamiliar in the morning’s events, for he wascontinually in the habit of serving Lady Vandeleur on secret missions,principally connected with millinery. There was a skeleton in the house,as he well knew. The bottomless extravagance and the unknown liabilitiesof the wife had long since swallowed her own fortune, and threatened dayby day to engulph that of the husband. Once or twice in every yearexposure and ruin seemed imminent, and Harry kept trotting round to allsorts of furnishers’ shops, telling small fibs, and paying small advanceson the gross amount, until another term was tided over, and the lady andher faithful secretary breathed again. For Harry, in a double capacity,was heart and soul upon that side of the war: not only did he adore LadyVandeleur and fear and dislike her husband, but he naturally sympathisedwith the love of finery, and his own single extravagance was at thetailor’s.
He found the bandbox where it had been described, arranged his toilettewith care, and left the house. The sun shone brightly; the distance hehad to travel was considerable, and he remembered with dismay that theGeneral’s sudden irruption had prevented Lady Vandeleur from giving himmoney for a cab. On this sultry day there was every chance that hiscomplexion would suffer severely; and to walk through so much of Londonwith a bandbox on his arm was a humiliation almost insupportable to ayouth of his character. He paused, and took counsel with himself. TheVandeleurs lived in Eaton Place; his destination was near Notting Hill;plainly, he might cross the Park by keeping well in the open and avoidingpopulous alleys; and he thanked his stars when he reflected that it wasstill comparatively early in the day.
Anxious to be rid of his incubus, he walked somewhat faster than hisordinary, and he was already some way through Kensington Gardens when, ina solitary spot among trees, he found himself confronted by the General.
“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas,” observed Harry, politely falling on oneside; for the other stood directly in his path.
“Where are you going, sir?” asked the General.
“I am taking a little walk among the trees,” replied the lad.
The General struck the bandbox with his cane.
“With that thing?” he cried; “you lie, sir, and you know you lie!”
“Indeed, Sir Thomas,” returned Harry, “I am not accustomed to bequestioned in so high a key.”
“You do not understand your position,” said the General. “You are myservant, and a servant of whom I have conceived the most serioussuspicions. How do I know but that your box is full of teaspoons?”
“It contains a silk hat belonging to a friend,” said Harry.
“Very well,” replied General Vandeleur. “Then I want to see yourfriend’s silk hat. I have,” he added grimly, “a singular curiosity forhats; and I believe you know me to be somewhat positive.”
“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas, I am exceedingly grieved,” Harryapologised; “but indeed this is a private affair.”
The General caught him roughly by the shoulder with one hand, while heraised his cane in the most menacing manner with the other. Harry gavehimself up for lost; but at the same moment Heaven vouchsafed him anunexpected defender in the person of Charlie Pendragon, who now strodeforward from behind the trees.
“Come, come, General, hold your hand,” said he, “this is neithercourteous nor manly.”
“Aha!” cried the General, wheeling round upon his new antagonist, “Mr.Pendragon! And do you suppose, Mr. Pendragon, that because I have hadthe misfortune to marry your sister, I shall suffer myself to be doggedand thwarted by a discredited and bankrupt libertine like you? Myacquaintance with Lady Vandeleur, sir, has taken away all my appetite forthe other members of her family.”
“And do you fancy, General Vandeleur,” retorted Charlie, “that because mysister has had the misfortune to marry you, she there and then forfeitedher rights and privileges as a lady? I own, sir, that by that action shedid as much as anybody could to derogate from her position; but to me sheis still a Pendragon. I make it my business to protect her fromungentlemanly outrage, and if you were ten times her husband I would notpermit her liberty to be restrained, nor her private messengers to beviolently arrested.”
“How is that, Mr. Hartley?” interrogated the General. “Mr. Pendragon isof my opinion, it appears. He too suspects that Lady Vandeleur hassomething to do with your friend’s silk hat.”
Charlie saw that he had committed an unpardonable blunder, which hehastened to repair.
“How, sir?” he cried; “I suspect, do you say? I suspect nothing. Onlywhere I find strength abused and a man brutalising his inferiors, I takethe liberty to interfere.”
As he said these words he made a sign to Harry, which the latter was toodull or too much troubled to understand.
“In what way am I to construe your attitude, sir?” demanded Vandeleur.
“Why, sir, as you please,” returned Pendragon.
The General once more raised his cane, and made a cut for Charlie’s head;but the latter, lame foot and all, evaded the blow with his umbrella, ranin, and immediately closed with his formidable adversary.
“Run, Harry, run!” he cried; “run, you dolt!”
Harry stood petrified for a moment, watching the two men sway together inthis fierce embrace; then he turned and took to his heels. When he casta glance over his shoulder he saw the General prostrate under Charlie’sknee, but still making desperate efforts to reverse the situation; andthe Gardens seemed to have filled with people, who were running from alldirections towards the scene of fight. This spectacle lent the secretarywings; and he did not relax his pace until he had gained the Bayswaterroad, and plunged at random into an unfrequented by-street.
To see two gentlemen of his acquaintance thus brutally mauling each otherwas deeply shocking to Harry. He desired to forget the sight; hedesired, above all, to put as great a distance as possible betweenhimself and General Vandeleur; and in his eagerness for this he forgoteverything about his destination, and hurried before him headlong andtrembling. When he remembered that Lady Vandeleur was the wife of oneand the sister of the other of these gladiators, his heart was touchedwith sympathy for a woman so distressingly misplaced in life. Even hisown situation in the General’s household looked hardly so pleasing asusual in the light of these violent transactions.
He had walked some little distance, busied with these meditations, beforea slight collision with another passenger reminded him of the bandbox onhis arm.
“Heavens!” cried he, “where was my head? and whither have I wandered?”
Thereupon he consulted the envelope which Lady Vandeleur had given him.The address was there, but without a name. Harry was simply directed toask for “the gentleman who expected a parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” and ifhe were not at home to await his return. The gentleman, added the note,should present a receipt in the handwriting of the lady herself. Allthis seemed mightily mysterious, and Harry was above all astonished atthe omission of the name and the formality of the receipt. He hadthought little of this last when he heard it dropped in conversation; butreading it in cold blood, and taking it in connection with the otherstrange particulars, he became convinced that he was engaged in perilousaffairs. For half a moment he had a doubt of Lady Vandeleur herself; forhe found these obscure proceedings somewhat unworthy of so high a lady,and became more critical when her secrets were preserved against himself.But her empire over his spirit was too complete, he dismissed hissuspicions, and blamed himself roundly for having so much as entertainedthem.
In one thing, however, his duty and interest, his generosity and histerrors, coincided—to get rid of the bandbox with the greatest possibledespatch.
He accosted the first policeman and courteously inquired his way. Itturned out that he was already not far from his destination, and a walkof a few minutes brought him to a small house in a lane, freshly painted,and kept with the most scrupulous attention. The knocker and bell-pullwere highly polished; flowering pot-herbs garnished the sills of thedifferent windows; and curtains of some rich material concealed theinterior from the eyes of curious passengers. The place had an air ofrepose and secrecy; and Harry was so far caught with this spirit that heknocked with more than usual discretion, and was more than usuallycareful to remove all impurity from his boots.
A servant-maid of some personal attractions immediately opened the door,and seemed to regard the secretary with no unkind eyes.
“This is the parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” said Harry.
“I know,” replied the maid, with a nod. “But the gentleman is from home.Will you leave it with me?”
“I cannot,” answered Harry. “I am directed not to part with it but upona certain condition, and I must ask you, I am afraid, to let me wait.”
“Well,” said she, “I suppose I may let you wait. I am lonely enough, Ican tell you, and you do not look as though you would eat a girl. But besure and do not ask the gentleman’s name, for that I am not to tell you.”
“Do you say so?” cried Harry. “Why, how strange! But indeed for sometime back I walk among surprises. One question I think I may surely askwithout indiscretion: Is he the master of this house?”
“He is a lodger, and not eight days old at that,” returned the maid.“And now a question for a question: Do you know lady Vandeleur?”
“I am her private secretary,” replied Harry with a glow of modest pride.
“She is pretty, is she not?” pursued the servant.
“Oh, beautiful!” cried Harry; “wonderfully lovely, and not less good andkind!”
“You look kind enough yourself,” she retorted; “and I wager you are wortha dozen Lady Vandeleurs.”
Harry was properly scandalised.
“I!” he cried. “I am only a secretary!”
“Do you mean that for me?” said the girl. “Because I am only ahousemaid, if you please.” And then, relenting at the sight of Harry’sobvious confusion, “I know you mean nothing of the sort,” she added; “andI like your looks; but I think nothing of your Lady Vandeleur. Oh, thesemistresses!” she cried. “To send out a real gentleman like you—with abandbox—in broad day!”
During this talk they had remained in their original positions—she on thedoorstep, he on the side-walk, bareheaded for the sake of coolness, andwith the bandbox on his arm. But upon this last speech Harry, who wasunable to support such point-blank compliments to his appearance, nor theencouraging look with which they were accompanied, began to change hisattitude, and glance from left to right in perturbation. In so doing heturned his face towards the lower end of the lane, and there, to hisindescribable dismay, his eyes encountered those of General Vandeleur.The General, in a prodigious fluster of heat, hurry, and indignation, hadbeen scouring the streets in chase of his brother-in-law; but so soon ashe caught a glimpse of the delinquent secretary, his purpose changed, hisanger flowed into a new channel, and he turned on his heel and cametearing up the lane with truculent gestures and vociferations.
Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driving the maid beforehim; and the door was slammed in his pursuer’s countenance.
“Is there a bar? Will it lock?” asked Harry, while a salvo on theknocker made the house echo from wall to wall.
“Why, what is wrong with you?” asked the maid. “Is it this oldgentleman?”
“If he gets hold of me,” whispered Harry, “I am as good as dead. He hasbeen pursuing me all day, carries a sword-stick, and is an Indianmilitary officer.”
“These are fine manners,” cried the maid. “And what, if you please, maybe his name?”
“It is the General, my master,” answered Harry. “He is after thisbandbox.”
“Did not I tell you?” cried the maid in triumph. “I told you I thoughtworse than nothing of your Lady Vandeleur; and if you had an eye in yourhead you might see what she is for yourself. An ungrateful minx, I willbe bound for that!”
The General renewed his attack upon the knocker, and his passion growingwith delay, began to kick and beat upon the panels of the door.
“It is lucky,” observed the girl, “that I am alone in the house; yourGeneral may hammer until he is weary, and there is none to open for him.Follow me!”
So saying she led Harry into the kitchen, where she made him sit down,and stood by him herself in an affectionate attitude, with a hand uponhis shoulder. The din at the door, so far from abating, continued toincrease in volume, and at each blow the unhappy secretary was shaken tothe heart.
“What is your name?” asked the girl.
“Harry Hartley,” he replied.
“Mine,” she went on, “is Prudence. Do you like it?”
“Very much,” said Harry. “But hear for a moment how the General beatsupon the door. He will certa
inly break it in, and then, in heaven’sname, what have I to look for but death?”
“You put yourself very much about with no occasion,” answered Prudence.“Let your General knock, he will do no more than blister his hands. Doyou think I would keep you here if I were not sure to save you? Oh, no,I am a good friend to those that please me! and we have a back door uponanother lane. But,” she added, checking him, for he had got upon hisfeet immediately on this welcome news, “but I will not show where it isunless you kiss me. Will you, Harry?”
“That I will,” he cried, remembering his gallantry, “not for your backdoor, but because you are good and pretty.”
And he administered two or three cordial salutes, which were returned tohim in kind.
Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put her hand upon the key.
“Will you come and see me?” she asked.
“I will indeed,” said Harry. “Do not I owe you my life?”
“And now,” she added, opening the door, “run as hard as you can, for Ishall let in the General.”
Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him by the forelock; and headdressed himself diligently to flight. A few steps, and he believed hewould escape from his trials, and return to Lady Vandeleur in honour andsafety. But these few steps had not been taken before he heard a man’svoice hailing him by name with many execrations, and, looking over hisshoulder, he beheld Charlie Pendragon waving him with both arms toreturn. The shock of this new incident was so sudden and profound, andHarry was already worked into so high a state of nervous tension, that hecould think of nothing better than to accelerate his pace, and continuerunning. He should certainly have remembered the scene in KensingtonGardens; he should certainly have concluded that, where the General washis enemy, Charlie Pendragon could be no other than a friend. But suchwas the fever and perturbation of his mind that he was struck by none ofthese considerations, and only continued to run the faster up the lane.
Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile terms that he hurledafter the secretary, was obviously beside himself with rage. He, too,ran his very best; but, try as he might, the physical advantages were notupon his side, and his outcries and the fall of his lame foot on themacadam began to fall farther and farther into the wake.
Harry’s hopes began once more to arise. The lane was both steep andnarrow, but it was exceedingly solitary, bordered on either hand bygarden walls, overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the fugitivecould see in front of him, there was neither a creature moving nor anopen door. Providence, weary of persecution, was now offering him anopen field for his escape.
Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a tuft of chestnuts, itwas suddenly drawn back, and he could see inside, upon a garden path, thefigure of a butcher’s boy with his tray upon his arm. He had hardlyrecognised the fact before he was some steps beyond upon the other side.But the fellow had had time to observe him; he was evidently muchsurprised to see a gentleman go by at so unusual a pace; and he came outinto the lane and began to call after Harry with shouts of ironicalencouragement.
His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pendragon, who, although he wasnow sadly out of breath, once more upraised his voice.
“Stop, thief!” he cried.
And immediately the butcher’s boy had taken up the cry and joined in thepursuit.
This was a bitter moment for the hunted secretary. It is true that histerror enabled him once more to improve his pace, and gain with everystep on his pursuers; but he was well aware that he was near the end ofhis resources, and should he meet any one coming the other way, hispredicament in the narrow lane would be desperate indeed.
“I must find a place of concealment,” he thought, “and that within thenext few seconds, or all is over with me in this world.”
Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the lane took a suddenturning; and he found himself hidden from his enemies. There arecircumstances in which even the least energetic of mankind learn tobehave with vigour and decision; and the most cautious forget theirprudence and embrace foolhardy resolutions. This was one of thoseoccasions for Harry Hartley; and those who knew him best would have beenthe most astonished at the lad’s audacity. He stopped dead, flung thebandbox over a garden wall, and leaping upward with incredible agilityand seizing the copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong after itinto the garden.
He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in a border of smallrosebushes. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the wall hadbeen protected against such an escalade by a liberal provision of oldbottles; and he was conscious of a general dislocation and a painfulswimming in the head. Facing him across the garden, which was inadmirable order, and set with flowers of the most delicious perfume, hebeheld the back of a house. It was of considerable extent, and plainlyhabitable; but, in odd contrast to the grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept,and of a mean appearance. On all other sides the circuit of the gardenwall appeared unbroken.
He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but hismind was still unable to piece together or draw a rational conclusionfrom what he saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on the gravel,although he turned his eyes in that direction, it was with no thoughteither for defence or flight.
The new-comer was a large, coarse, and very sordid personage, ingardening clothes, and with a watering-pot in his left hand. One lessconfused would have been affected with some alarm at the sight of thisman’s huge proportions and black and lowering eyes. But Harry was toogravely shaken by his fall to be so much as terrified; and if he wasunable to divert his glances from the gardener, he remained absolutelypassive, and suffered him to draw near, to take him by the shoulder, andto plant him roughly on his feet, without a motion of resistance.
For a moment the two stared into each other’s eyes, Harry fascinated, theman filled with wrath and a cruel, sneering humour.
“Who are you?” he demanded at last. “Who are you to come flying over mywall and break my _Gloire de Dijons_! What is your name?” he added,shaking him; “and what may be your business here?”
Harry could not as much as proffer a word in explanation.
But just at that moment Pendragon and the butcher’s boy went clumpingpast, and the sound of their feet and their hoarse cries echoed loudly inthe narrow lane. The gardener had received his answer; and he lookeddown into Harry’s face with an obnoxious smile.
“A thief!” he said. “Upon my word, and a very good thing you must makeof it; for I see you dressed like a gentleman from top to toe. Are younot ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with honest folk, Idare say, glad to buy your cast-off finery second hand? Speak up, youdog,” the man went on; “you can understand English, I suppose; and I meanto have a bit of talk with you before I march you to the station.”
“Indeed, sir,” said Harry, “this is all a dreadful misconception; and ifyou will go with me to Sir Thomas Vandeleur’s in Eaton Place, I canpromise that all will be made plain. The most upright person, as I nowperceive, can be led into suspicious positions.”
“My little man,” replied the gardener, “I will go with you no fartherthan the station-house in the next street. The inspector, no doubt, willbe glad to take a stroll with you as far as Eaton Place, and have a bitof afternoon tea with your great acquaintances. Or would you prefer togo direct to the Home Secretary? Sir Thomas Vandeleur, indeed! Perhapsyou think I don’t know a gentleman when I see one, from a commonrun-the-hedge like you? Clothes or no clothes, I can read you like abook. Here is a shirt that maybe cost as much as my Sunday hat; and thatcoat, I take it, has never seen the inside of Rag-fair, and then yourboots—”
The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, stopped short in hisinsulting commentary, and remained for a moment looking intently uponsomething at his feet. When he spoke his voice was strangely altered.
“What, in God’s name,” said he, “is all this?”
Harry, following the direction of the man’
s eyes, beheld a spectacle thatstruck him dumb with terror and amazement. In his fall he had descendedvertically upon the bandbox and burst it open from end to end; thence agreat treasure of diamonds had poured forth, and now lay abroad, parttrodden in the soil, part scattered on the surface in regal andglittering profusion. There was a magnificent coronet which he had oftenadmired on Lady Vandeleur; there were rings and brooches, ear-drops andbracelets, and even unset brilliants rolling here and there among therosebushes like drops of morning dew. A princely fortune lay between thetwo men upon the ground—a fortune in the most inviting, solid, anddurable form, capable of being carried in an apron, beautiful in itself,and scattering the sunlight in a million rainbow flashes.
“Good God!” said Harry, “I am lost!”
His mind raced backwards into the past with the incalculable velocity ofthought, and he began to comprehend his day’s adventures, to conceivethem as a whole, and to recognise the sad imbroglio in which his owncharacter and fortunes had become involved. He looked round him as iffor help, but he was alone in the garden, with his scattered diamonds andhis redoubtable interlocutor; and when he gave ear, there was no soundbut the rustle of the leaves and the hurried pulsation of his heart. Itwas little wonder if the young man felt himself deserted by his spirits,and with a broken voice repeated his last ejaculation—“I am lost!”
The gardener peered in all directions with an air of guilt; but there wasno face at any of the windows, and he seemed to breathe again.
“Pick up a heart,” he said, “you fool! The worst of it is done. Whycould you not say at first there was enough for two? Two?” he repeated,“aye, and for two hundred! But come away from here, where we may beobserved; and, for the love of wisdom, straighten out your hat and brushyour clothes. You could not travel two steps the figure of fun you lookjust now.”
While Harry mechanically adopted these suggestions, the gardener, gettingupon his knees, hastily drew together the scattered jewels and returnedthem to the bandbox. The touch of these costly crystals sent a shiver ofemotion through the man’s stalwart frame; his face was transfigured, andhis eyes shone with concupiscence; indeed it seemed as if he luxuriouslyprolonged his occupation, and dallied with every diamond that he handled.At last, however, it was done; and, concealing the bandbox in his smock,the gardener beckoned to Harry and preceded him in the direction of thehouse.
Near the door they were met by a young man evidently in holy orders, darkand strikingly handsome, with a look of mingled weakness and resolution,and very neatly attired after the manner of his caste. The gardener wasplainly annoyed by this encounter; but he put as good a face upon it ashe could, and accosted the clergyman with an obsequious and smiling air.
“Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles,” said he: “a fine afternoon, assure as God made it! And here is a young friend of mine who had a fancyto look at my roses. I took the liberty to bring him in, for I thoughtnone of the lodgers would object.”
“Speaking for myself,” replied the Reverend Mr. Rolles, “I do not; nor doI fancy any of the rest of us would be more difficult upon so small amatter. The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn; we must none of us forgetthat; and because you give us liberty to walk there we should be indeedungracious if we so far presumed upon your politeness as to interferewith the convenience of your friends. But, on second thoughts,” headded, “I believe that this gentleman and I have met before. Mr.Hartley, I think. I regret to observe that you have had a fall.”
And he offered his hand.
A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible thenecessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of help, andto deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the gardener,who was at least unknown to him, rather than the curiosity and perhapsthe doubts of an acquaintance.
“I fear there is some mistake,” said he. “My name is Thomlinson and I ama friend of Mr. Raeburn’s.”
“Indeed?” said Mr. Rolles. “The likeness is amazing.”
Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now feltit high time to bring it to a period.
“I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir,” said he.
And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then into achamber on the garden. His first care was to draw down the blind, forMr. Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an attitude ofperplexity and thought. Then he emptied the broken bandbox on the table,and stood before the treasure, thus fully displayed, with an expressionof rapturous greed, and rubbing his hands upon his thighs. For Harry,the sight of the man’s face under the influence of this base emotion,added another pang to those he was already suffering. It seemedincredible that, from his life of pure and delicate trifling, he shouldbe plunged in a breath among sordid and criminal relations. He couldreproach his conscience with no sinful act; and yet he was now sufferingthe punishment of sin in its most acute and cruel forms—the dread ofpunishment, the suspicions of the good, and the companionship andcontamination of vile and brutal natures. He felt he could lay his lifedown with gladness to escape from the room and the society of Mr.Raeburn.
“And now,” said the latter, after he had separated the jewels into twonearly equal parts, and drawn one of them nearer to himself; “and now,”said he, “everything in this world has to be paid for, and some thingssweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be your name, that I am aman of a very easy temper, and good nature has been my stumbling-blockfrom first to last. I could pocket the whole of these pretty pebbles, ifI chose, and I should like to see you dare to say a word; but I think Imust have taken a liking to you; for I declare I have not the heart toshave you so close. So, do you see, in pure kind feeling, I propose thatwe divide; and these,” indicating the two heaps, “are the proportionsthat seem to me just and friendly. Do you see any objection, Mr.Hartley, may I ask? I am not the man to stick upon a brooch.”
“But, sir,” cried Harry, “what you propose to me is impossible. Thejewels are not mine, and I cannot share what is another’s, no matter withwhom, nor in what proportions.”
“They are not yours, are they not?” returned Raeburn. “And you could notshare them with anybody, couldn’t you? Well now, that is what I call apity; for here am I obliged to take you to the station. The police—thinkof that,” he continued; “think of the disgrace for your respectableparents; think,” he went on, taking Harry by the wrist; “think of theColonies and the Day of Judgment.”
“I cannot help it,” wailed Harry. “It is not my fault. You will notcome with me to Eaton Place?”
“No,” replied the man, “I will not, that is certain. And I mean todivide these playthings with you here.”
And so saying he applied a sudden and severe torsion to the lad’s wrist.
Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspiration burst forth uponhis face. Perhaps pain and terror quickened his intelligence, butcertainly at that moment the whole business flashed across him in anotherlight; and he saw that there was nothing for it but to accede to theruffian’s proposal, and trust to find the house and force him todisgorge, under more favourable circumstances, and when he himself wasclear from all suspicion.
“I agree,” he said.
“There is a lamb,” sneered the gardener. “I thought you would recogniseyour interests at last. This bandbox,” he continued, “I shall burn withmy rubbish; it is a thing that curious folk might recognise; and as foryou, scrape up your gaieties and put them in your pocket.”
Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, and every now and againhis greed rekindled by some bright scintillation, abstracting anotherjewel from the secretary’s share, and adding it to his own.
When this was finished, both proceeded to the front door, which Raeburncautiously opened to observe the street. This was apparently clear ofpassengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, andholding his face downward so that he could see nothing but the roadwayand the doorsteps of the houses, pushed him violently
before him down onestreet and up another for the space of perhaps a minute and a half.Harry had counted three corners before the bully relaxed his grasp, andcrying, “Now be off with you!” sent the lad flying head foremost with awell-directed and athletic kick.
When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and bleeding freely at thenose, Mr. Raeburn had entirely disappeared. For the first time, angerand pain so completely overcame the lad’s spirits that he burst into afit of tears and remained sobbing in the middle of the road.
After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, he began to look abouthim and read the names of the streets at whose intersection he had beendeserted by the gardener. He was still in an unfrequented portion ofWest London, among villas and large gardens; but he could see somepersons at a window who had evidently witnessed his misfortune; andalmost immediately after a servant came running from the house andoffered him a glass of water. At the same time, a dirty rogue, who hadbeen slouching somewhere in the neighbourhood, drew near him from theother side.
“Poor fellow,” said the maid, “how vilely you have been handled, to besure! Why, your knees are all cut, and your clothes ruined! Do you knowthe wretch who used you so?”
“That I do!” cried Harry, who was somewhat refreshed by the water; “andshall run him home in spite of his precautions. He shall pay dearly forthis day’s work, I promise you.”
“You had better come into the house and have yourself washed andbrushed,” continued the maid. “My mistress will make you welcome, neverfear. And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of mercy!” shescreamed, “if you have not dropped diamonds all over the street!”
Such was the case; a good half of what remained to him after thedepredations of Mr. Raeburn, had been shaken out of his pockets by thesummersault and once more lay glittering on the ground. He blessed hisfortune that the maid had been so quick of eye; “there is nothing so badbut it might be worse,” thought he; and the recovery of these few seemedto him almost as great an affair as the loss of all the rest. But, alas!as he stooped to pick up his treasures, the loiterer made a rapidonslaught, overset both Harry and the maid with a movement of his arms,swept up a double handful of the diamonds, and made off along the streetwith an amazing swiftness.
Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave chase to the miscreantwith many cries, but the latter was too fleet of foot, and probably toowell acquainted with the locality; for turn where the pursuer would hecould find no traces of the fugitive.
In the deepest despondency, Harry revisited the scene of his mishap,where the maid, who was still waiting, very honestly returned him his hatand the remainder of the fallen diamonds. Harry thanked her from hisheart, and being now in no humour for economy, made his way to thenearest cab-stand and set off for Eaton Place by coach.
The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a catastrophehad happened in the family; and the servants clustered together in thehall, and were unable, or perhaps not altogether anxious, to suppresstheir merriment at the tatterdemalion figure of the secretary. He passedthem with as good an air of dignity as he could assume, and made directlyfor the boudoir. When he opened the door an astonishing and evenmenacing spectacle presented itself to his eyes; for he beheld theGeneral and his wife and, of all people, Charlie Pendragon, closetedtogether and speaking with earnestness and gravity on some importantsubject. Harry saw at once that there was little left for him toexplain—plenary confession had plainly been made to the General of theintended fraud upon his pocket, and the unfortunate miscarriage of thescheme; and they had all made common cause against a common danger.
“Thank Heaven!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “here he is! The bandbox,Harry—the bandbox!”
But Harry stood before them silent and downcast.
“Speak!” she cried. “Speak! Where is the bandbox?”
And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated the demand.
Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. He was very white.
“This is all that remains,” said he. “I declare before Heaven it wasthrough no fault of mine; and if you will have patience, although someare lost, I am afraid, for ever, others, I am sure, may be stillrecovered.”
“Alas!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “all our diamonds are gone, and I oweninety thousand pounds for dress!”
“Madam,” said the General, “you might have paved the gutter with your owntrash; you might have made debts to fifty times the sum you mention; youmight have robbed me of my mother’s coronet and ring; and Nature mighthave still so far prevailed that I could have forgiven you at last. But,madam, you have taken the Rajah’s Diamond—the Eye of Light, as theOrientals poetically termed it—the Pride of Kashgar! You have taken fromme the Rajah’s Diamond,” he cried, raising his hands, “and all, madam,all is at an end between us!”
“Believe me, General Vandeleur,” she replied, “that is one of the mostagreeable speeches that ever I heard from your lips; and since we are tobe ruined, I could almost welcome the change, if it delivers me from you.You have told me often enough that I married you for your money; let metell you now that I always bitterly repented the bargain; and if you werestill marriageable, and had a diamond bigger than your head, I shouldcounsel even my maid against a union so uninviting and disastrous. Asfor you, Mr. Hartley,” she continued, turning on the secretary, “you havesufficiently exhibited your valuable qualities in this house; we are nowpersuaded that you equally lack manhood, sense, and self-respect; and Ican see only one course open for you—to withdraw instanter, and, ifpossible, return no more. For your wages you may rank as a creditor inmy late husband’s bankruptcy.”
Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting address before the Generalwas down upon him with another.
“And in the meantime,” said that personage, “follow me before the nearestInspector of Police. You may impose upon a simple-minded soldier, sir,but the eye of the law will read your disreputable secret. If I mustspend my old age in poverty through your underhand intriguing with mywife, I mean at least that you shall not remain unpunished for yourpains; and God, sir, will deny me a very considerable satisfaction if youdo not pick oakum from now until your dying day.”
With that, the General dragged Harry from the apartment, and hurried himdownstairs and along the street to the police-station of the district.
* * * * *
_Here_ (says my Arabian author) _ended this deplorable business of thebandbox_. _But to the unfortunate Secretary the whole affair was thebeginning of a new and manlier life_. _The police were easily persuadedof his innocence_; _and_, _after he had given what help he could in thesubsequent investigations_, _he was even complemented by one of thechiefs of the detective department on the probity and simplicity of hisbehaviour_. _Several persons interested themselves in one sounfortunate_; _and soon after he inherited a sum of money from a maidenaunt in Worcestershire_. _With this he married Prudence_, _and set sailfor Bendigo_, _or according to another account_, _for Trincomalee_,_exceedingly content_, _and will the best of prospects_.
New Arabian Nights Page 4