Parson Kelly

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by Andrew Lang


  CHAPTER XXII

  AN ECLOGUE WHICH DEMONSTRATES THE PASTORAL SIMPLICITY OF CORYDON AND STREPHON

  Wogan has told already how Kelly came out of the house in Queen'sSquare, how he led the way to the glade, so convenient for theoccasion, and how he dismissed his friend. George has since declaredthat he never was more tossed up and down in his mind than during thattrifle of a promenade. Here was the Colonel that had insulted him, andwished nothing, more or less, than to cut his clerical throat. Andhere was Kelly, that must make friends with his enemy, if he was tosave his honour, and the reputation, such as it was, of the woman whomhe had once loved. It was a quandary. If Kelly began by showing a flagof truce, the Colonel, as like as not, would fire on it by way of akick or cuff, and then a friendly turn to the conversation would betotally out of the possible. Had Kelly been six inches taller than hewas and a perfect master of his weapon, he might have trusted to thechance of disarming the Colonel and then proposing a cartel, butunhappily it was the Elector's officer who possessed these advantages.Thus Kelly could think of nothing except to get rid of Mr. Wogan'spresence as a witness of the explanation. He succeeded in that, andthen marched back to the Colonel, who had stood aside while Georgeconversed with his friend.

  Kelly waited, as the wiser part, till the Colonel should show hishand. But the Colonel also waited, and there the two gentlemen stoodspeechless, just out of thrust of each other, while every conveniencein nature called on them to begin.

  At last the Colonel cleared his throat and said, 'Reverend Mr.Lace-Merchant, I am somewhat at a loss as to how I should deal withyou.'

  'Faith, it is my own case,' thought George to himself, but all heuttered was, 'Gallant Mr. Drill-Sergeant, the case seems clear enough.You trod on my foot, and,' said George, as he let his cloak slip fromhis shoulders to the ground, 'you invited me to take a walk; whatcircumstance now befogs your intellects?'

  Kelly's instincts, naturally good, though dimmed a trifle by a learnededucation and a clerical training, showed him but that one way out ofthe wood.

  'Several circumstances combine, sir. Thus, I do not want to save thehangman a job. Again, my respect for your cloth forbids me to drawsword on you, and rather prompts to a public battooning tomorrow inSt. James's. I therefore do but wait to favour you with this warning,which is more than a trafficker of your kidney deserves.'

  'Truth, sir, if you wait to cane me till to-morrow, I have everyreason to believe that you may wait a lifetime. As to cloth, mine isas honourable as ever a German usurper's livery.'

  This did not promise a friendly conclusion, but George was everhonourably ready to support the honour of his gown, and he confessesthat, at this moment, he somewhat lost sight of his main object.

  The Colonel stepped forward with uplifted cane, a trifle oftortoise-shell and amber, in his hand.

  George drew back one pace and folded his arms on his breast. His eyes,which are of an uncommon bright blue, were fixed on the Colonel's.

  'You will find, sir, if you advance one foot, that I do not stand kickor cuff. You are dealing with one who knows his weapon' (no experiencecould cure George of this delusion), 'and who does not value his lifeat a straw. Moreover, you began a parley for which I did not ask,though I desired it, and I have to tell you that your honour isinvolved in continuing this conversation in quite another key.'

  George stepped forward the pace he had withdrawn, and clasped hishands behind his back, watching the Colonel narrowly.

  There was something in his voice, more in his eyes. The Colonel hadseen fire, and knew a brave man when he met one. He threw down hiscane and Kelly reckoned that the worst of his task was over.

  'You may compel me to fight,' George went on, 'and I never went to afeast with a better stomach, but first I have certain words that mustbe spoken to you.'

  'You cannot intend to escape by promising a discovery?'

  'Sir, I do not take you for a Messenger or a Minister. One or both Ican find without much seeking, and, for that sufficient reason, beforethey lay hands on me I absolutely demand to speak to you on a matterclosely touching your own honour, which, as I have never heard itimpeached, I therefore sincerely profess my desire to trust.'

  'You are pleased to be complimentary, but I know not how my honour canbe concerned with a Jacobite trafficker and his treasons.'

  'I make you this promise, that, if you do thus utterly refuse tolisten for five minutes, I will give you every satisfaction at thesword's point, or, by God! will compel you to take it, as you havebeen pleased to introduce battoons into a conversation betweengentlemen. And if, when you have heard me, you remain dissatisfied,again I will give you a lesson with sharps. You see that we are notlikely to be interrupted, and that I am perfectly cool. This is amatter to each of us of more than life or death.'

  'I do see that you desire to pique my curiosity for the sake of someadvantage which I am unable to perceive. Perhaps you expect yourfriends on the scene?'

  'You may observe that I began by dismissing the only friend I have inthis town. Do you, perhaps, suspect that Mr. Nicholas Wogan needs, orhas gone to procure, assistance?'

  'I confess that I know that gentleman too well for any suchsuspicions.'

  'Then, sir, remember that the Roman says _noscitur a sociis_, andreflect that I am a friend of Mr. Wogan's, who must stand sponsor, asyou do not know me, for my honesty. Moreover,' said George, workinground by a risky way to his point, 'had I wished to escape I could,instead of socking you, have sneaked off t'other way. You observedthat I remained some minutes with a lady to-night after you and therest of her company had withdrawn?'

  'It is very like your impudence to remind me of that among otherprovocations! I am not concerned in your merchant's business ofbrocades.'

  'But, indeed, with your pardon, you are concerned in the highestdegree, and that is just the point I would bring you to consider.'

  'I tire of your mysteries, sir,' he said, shrugging his shoulders.'Speak on, and be brief.'

  'On these brocades turns the question whether the honour of a lady,which you are bound to cherish, shall be the laughing-stock of thetown. Sir, in a word, you, and you only, can save that person; need Isay more?'

  'Did she send you with this message to save your own skin?'

  'That is past saving, except by a miracle, which I am in no situationto expect will be wrought for me. Understand me, sir, I am out of hopeof earthly salvation. I have nothing to gain, nothing to look for fromman. I make you freely acquainted with that position of my affairs,which are purely desperate. And the person of whom we speak looks toyou as her sole hope in the world. She sends you this, take it, I knownot the contents, the seal, as you perceive, being unbroken.'

  'This looks more serious,' said the Colonel, taking the sealed notewhich Kelly handed to him.

  He pored over the letter, holding it up to the moonlight. 'Do as thebearer bids you, if you would have me live,' he read; then, with abitter laugh, he tore the note into the smallest shreds, and was aboutto dash them down on the grass.

  'Hold, sir,' Kelly said; 'preserve them till you can burn them. Or--Ihave myself swallowed the like before now.'

  The Colonel stared, and put the fragments into his pocket-book.

  'Well,' he said, 'I am hearing you.'

  'I thank you, sir; you will grant that I did not wrong you in trustingyour generosity. If I am a free man to-morrow, or even to-night afterthis business is done, I shall have the honour of meeting you,wherever you are pleased to appoint. For my cloth have no scruple, Inever was more than half a parson.'

  'Sir, I shall treat you as you may merit. And now for your commands,which, it seems, I am in a manner under the necessity to obey.'

  'You see this key, sir,' said Kelly, offering that of one of hisstrong boxes, 'take it, go to my lodgings, which, by a miracle, are inthe same house as your own. Enter my parlour, 'tis on the groundfloor; open the small iron strong box which this key fits, and burnall the--brocades which you
find there.'

  'This is a most ingenious stroke of the theatre! I am to burn, Iperceive, all the papers, or brocades as you call them, which damn youfor a Jacobite plotter! It is not badly contrived, sir, but you havecome to the wrong agent I am acquainted with the ingenious works ofthe French playwrights.'

  'Sir, you compel me, against my will, to be more plain with you than Idesire. It is your own fault if I give you concern. On opening thecoffer you may satisfy yourself of the hand of the writer, whichcannot but be familiar to you. Moreover, the letters of the person forwhom we are concerned are addressed (that you may not make the errorwhich you apprehend) to one Strephon--not a cant name of a politicalplot.'

  'She called you--Strephon?'

  'She was so kind.'

  'And I was Corydon,' groaned the Colonel between his teeth.

  '_Arcades ambo!_' said George. 'But now 'tis the hour of a thirdshepherd! Lycidas, perhaps, _le plus heureux des trois_. Oh, Colonel,be easy, we are both yesterday's roses, or, rather, I am the rose ofthe day before yesterday.'

  'And it is for this woman--'

  'Ay, it is just for this woman that you are to risk your commission,for a risk there may be, and I my life, for I could get away from thisplace. You perceive that we have no alternative?'

  'What must be, must,' he said, after some moments of thought; 'butwhat if I find the Messengers already in possession of your effects?'

  'In that case I must depend solely on your own management andinvention. But I may say that gold will do much, nay, everything withsuch fellows, and your position, moreover, as a trusted officer ofyour King's, will enable you to satisfy men not very eminent forscruples.'

  'Gold! I have not a guinea, thanks to the cards, not a stiver in myrooms to-night. The cards took all.'

  'Here, at least,' cried George, 'I can offer some kind of proof of myhonesty, and even be of service. I am poor, Heaven knows, but thereare my winnings, easily enough to corrupt four Messengers. Use themoney; I have friends who will not let me starve in the Tower. Nay,delicacy is purely foolish. I insist that you take it.'

  'Mr. Johnson,' the Colonel said, 'you are a very extraordinary man.'

  'Sir, I am an Irishman,' said George.

  'I will not say that I never met one like you, but I hope, after allaccounts are settled between us, to have the advantage of youracquaintance. Sir, _au revoir_.'

  'I shall be with you, sir, in ten minutes after your arrival in yourlodgings, whether the coast be clear or not. But let me attend youacross the Park, as far as the corner of Pall Mall Street.'

  If Kelly was an Irishman, Montague was an Englishman, and Kelly waswell enough acquainted with that nation to know that the last proofgiven of his disinterestedness was by much the most powerful he couldhave used. He reflected again on the Devil's own luck of Smilinda thatnight, for if the cards had gone contrary to her and George he couldnot have produced this demonstration of his loyalty, nor could he verywell have invited the Colonel to pay the piper out of his own pocket.

  The Colonel also walked silently, turning about in his mind all theaspects of this affair.

  'I understand,' he said, 'that you are upon honour not to involve mein tampering with anything disaffected? You will take no advantagewhatever that may give _me_ the air of being concerned, to shelteryourself or your party?'

  'You have my word for it, sir. Your honour, next to that in which weare equally concerned, is now my foremost consideration.'

  He nodded, then sighed, as one not very well satisfied.

  'Things may come to wear a very suspicious complexion, but I must riska little; the worse the luck. Mr. Johnson, neither of us has been verywise in the beginnings of this business.'

  'I came to that conclusion rather earlier than you, sir, and on verygood evidence.'

  'No doubt,' growled Montague, and he muttered once or twice,'Strephon, Corydon--Corydon, Strephon.' Then he turned unexpectedly toKelly. 'You mentioned these letters as I was leaving the room, and Inoticed that her ladyship grew white. She kept you, she knew then ofthe danger you were in and has just informed you of it. Now, how cameshe to have so particular a knowledge of your danger?'

  Mr. Kelly did not answer a question which boded no good for LadyOxford. 'She had grounds of resentment against you in a certainballad.'

  Kelly seized at the chance of diverting Montague from his suspicions,and showed how the ballad was aimed at him no less than at herladyship, and, without giving the Colonel time to interrupt,

  'Here I must bid you _au revoir_, sir,' he said, 'for some tenminutes, time enough for you to do what is needed, if, as I hope, youare not disturbed. The Messengers, I conceive, will be lurking for mein Ryder Street outside our common door; they will not think ofpreventing you from entering, and before I arrive, whatever befalls_me_, our common interest will be secured.'

  'You are determined to follow?'

  'What else can I do? I must know the end of this affair of thebrocades. It is not wholly impossible that the Messengers have weariedof waiting, and think to take me abed to-morrow. When you have donewhat you know, you will leave my room, and I, if I am not taken, havesome arrangements of my own to make. That, I presume, is not a breachof my engagement with you?'

  'Certainly not, sir. When I have left your room I am in no senseresponsible for your actions. I wish you good fortune.'

  While they thus walked and were sad enough, they came within ear-shotof Wogan, who, at that moment, was declaiming Mr. Pope's Night pieceto Mr. Scrope, who was in the Canal.

  What conversation passed between the four gentlemen Wogan has alreadytold, and he has mentioned how the Colonel went away, and how, afterusing pains to prevent Mr. Scrope from catching a cold, he himselfwithdrew to court slumber, and left Mr. Kelly alone in the moonlight.

  Mr. Kelly did not remain in the open, but lay _perdu_ on the shadowyside of the grove. Concealing himself from any chance of a rencounter,he allotted a space of twelve minutes by his watch, and time neverpaced more tardy with him in all his life. There was in his favour butthe one chance that the Messengers might choose to take him abed inthe early morning, when the streets would be empty. At this moment St.James's Street was full of chairs and noises; night-rakers wereabroad, and the Messengers, who are not very popular, might fear arescue by the rabble. On this chance Kelly fixed his hopes, for if hecould but be alone for ten minutes in his lodgings, he and his friendswould have little to fear from any evidence in his possession.

  If the Colonel succeeded, Lady Oxford, and, with her ladyship,George's honour, were safe. If, by an especial miracle of heaven,George could have a few minutes alone in his room, the Cause and thefaithful of the Cause would be safe. The Colonel, Kelly hoped, couldhardly fail to do his part of the work; he would enter his own roomsunchallenged, his uniform and well-known face must secure him as muchas that, and the Epistles of Smilinda would lie in ashes.

  So he hoped, but nothing occurred as he anticipated.

 

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