CHAPTER XXXVII.
EXEUNT OMNES.
Our characters are all a month older than theywere when the last-described adventures and conversations occurred,and a great number of the personages of our story have chanced tore-assemble at the little country town where we were first introducedto them. Frederic Lightfoot, formerly _maitre d'hotel_ in the serviceof Sir Francis Clavering, of Clavering Park, Bart., has begged leaveto inform the nobility and gentry of----shire that he has taken thatwell-known and comfortable hotel, the Clavering Arms, in Clavering,where he hopes for the continued patronage of the gentlemen andfamilies of the county. "This ancient and well-established house," Mr.Lightfoot's manifesto states, "has been repaired and decorated in astyle of the greatest comfort. Gentlemen hunting with theDumplingbeare hounds will find excellent stabling and loose boxes forhorses at the Clavering Arms. A commodious billiard-room has beenattached to the hotel, and the cellars have been furnished with thechoicest wines and spirits, selected, without regard to expense, byC.L. Commercial gentlemen will find the Clavering Arms a mostcomfortable place of resort: and the scale of charges has beenregulated for all, so as to meet the economical spirit of thepresent times."
Indeed, there is a considerable air of liveliness about the old inn.The Clavering Arms have been splendidly repainted over the gate-way.The coffee-room windows are bright and fresh, and decorated withChristmas holly; the magistrates have met in petty sessions in thecard-room of the old Assembly. The farmers' ordinary is held asof old, and frequented by increased numbers, who are pleased with Mrs.Lightfoot's _cuisine_. Her Indian curries and Mulligatawny soup areespecially popular: Major Stokes, the respected tenant of FairoaksCottage, Captain Glanders, H. P., and other resident gentry, havepronounced in their favor, and have partaken of them more than once,both in private and at the dinner of the Clavering Institute,attendant on the incorporation of the reading-room, and when the chiefinhabitants of that flourishing little town met together and didjustice to the hostess's excellent cheer. The chair was taken by SirFrancis Clavering, Bart., supported by the esteemed rector, Dr.Portman; the vice-chair being ably filled by----Barker, Esq.(supported by the Rev. J. Simcoe and the Rev. S. Jowls), theenterprising head of the ribbon factory in Clavering, and chiefdirector of the Clavering and Chatteris Branch of the Great WesternRailway, which will be opened in another year, and upon the works ofwhich the engineers and workmen are now busily engaged.
"An interesting event, which is likely to take place in the life ofour talented townsman, Arthur Pendennis, Esq., has, we understand,caused him to relinquish the intentions which he had of offeringhimself as a candidate for our borough; and rumor whispers (says theChatteris Champion, Clavering Agriculturist, and BaymouthFisherman--that independent county paper, so distinguished for itsunswerving principles and loyalty to the British oak, and so eligiblea medium for advertisements)--rumor states, says the C. C. C. A. andB.F., that should Sir Francis Clavering's failing health oblige himto relinquish his seat in Parliament, he will vacate it in favor of ayoung gentleman of colossal fortune and related to the highestaristocracy of the empire, who is about to contract a matrimonialalliance with an accomplished and LOVELY lady, connected by thenearest ties with the respected family at Clavering Park. LadyClavering and Miss Amory have arrived at the Park for the Christmasholidays; and we understand that a large number of the aristocracy areexpected, and that festivities of a peculiarly interesting nature willtake place there at the commencement of the new year."
The ingenious reader will be enabled, by the help of the aboveannouncement to understand what has taken place during the littlebreak which has occurred in our narrative. Although Lady Rockminstergrumbled a little at Laura's preference for Pendennis over Bluebeard,those who are aware of the latter's secret will understand that theyoung girl could make no other choice, and the kind old lady who hadconstituted herself Miss Bell's guardian was not ill-pleased that shewas to fulfill the great purpose in life of young ladies and marry.She informed her maid of the interesting event that very night, and ofcourse, Mrs. Beck, who was perfectly aware of every singlecircumstance, and kept by Martha, of Fairoaks, in the fullestknowledge of what was passing, was immensely surprised and delighted."Mr. Pendennis's income is so much; the railroad will give him somuch more, he states; Miss Bell has so much, and may probably have alittle more one day. For persons in their degree, they will be able tomanage very well. And I shall speak to my nephew Pynsent, who Isuspect was once rather attached to her--but of course that was out ofthe question" ("Oh! of course, my lady; I should think so indeed!")--"notthat you know any thing whatever about it, or have any businessto think at all on the subject--I shall speak to George Pynsent, whois now chief secretary of the Tape and Sealing Wax Office, and haveMr. Pendennis made something. And, Beck, in the morning you will carrydown my compliments to Major Pendennis, and say that I shall pay him avisit at one o'clock.--Yes," muttered the old lady, "the major must bereconciled, and he must leave his fortune to Laura's children."
Accordingly, at one o'clock, the Dowager Lady Rockminster appeared atMajor Pendennis's, who was delighted, as may be imagined, to receiveso noble a visitor. The major had been prepared, if not for the newswhich her ladyship was about to give him, at least with theintelligence that Pen's marriage with Miss Amory was broken off. Theyoung gentleman bethinking him of his uncle, for the first time thatday, it must be owned, and meeting his new servant in the hall of thehotel, asked after the major's health from Mr. Frosch; and then wentinto the coffee-room of the hotel, where he wrote a half-dozen linesto acquaint his guardian with what had occurred. "Dear uncle," hesaid, "if there has been any question between us, it is over now. Iwent to Tunbridge Wells yesterday, and found that somebody else hadcarried off the prize about which we were hesitating. Miss A., withoutany compunction for me, has bestowed herself upon Harry Foker, withhis fifteen thousand a year. I came in suddenly upon their loves, andfound and left him in possession.
"And you'll be glad to hear, Tatham writes me, that he has sold threeof my fields at Fairoaks to the Railroad Company, at a great figure. Iwill tell you this, and more when we met; and am always youraffectionate--A.P."
"I think I am aware of what you were about to tell me," the majorsaid, with a most courtly smile and bow to Pen's embassadress, "It wasa very great kindness of your ladyship to think of bringing me thenews. How well you look! How very good you are! How very kind you havealways been to that young man!"
"It was for the sake of his uncle," said Lady Rockminster, mostpolitely.
"He has informed me of the state of affairs, and written me a nicenote--yes, a nice note," continued the old gentleman; "and I find hehas had an increase to his fortune--yes; and all things considered, Idon't much regret that this affair with Miss Amory is _manquee_,though I wished for it once--in fact, all things considered, I am veryglad of it."
"We must console him, Major Pendennis," continued the lady; "we mustget him a wife." The truth then came across the major's mind, and hesaw for what purpose Lady Rockminster had chosen to assume the officeof embassadress.
It is not necessary to enter into the conversation which ensued, or totell at any length how her ladyship concluded a negotiation, which, intruth, was tolerably easy. There could be no reason why Pen should notmarry according to his own and his mother's wish; and as for LadyRockminster, she supported the marriage by intimations which had verygreat weight with the major, but of which we shall say nothing, as herladyship (now, of course, much advanced in years) is still alive, andthe family might be angry; and, in fine, the old gentleman was quiteovercome by the determined graciousness of the lady, and her fondnessfor Laura. Nothing, indeed, could be more bland and kind than LadyRockminster's whole demeanor, except for one moment when the majortalked about his boy throwing himself away, at which her ladyshipbroke out into a little speech, in which she made the majorunderstand, what poor Pen and his friends acknowledged very humbly,that Laura was a thousand times too good for him. Laura was fit to bethe wife of a king--Laura was a paragon o
f virtue and excellence. Andit must be said, that when Major Pendennis found that a lady of therank of the Countess of Rockminster seriously admired Miss Bell, heinstantly began to admire her himself.
So that when Herr Frosch was requested to walk up-stairs to LadyRockminster's apartments, and inform Miss Bell and Mr. ArthurPendennis that the major would receive them, and Laura appearedblushing and happy as she hung on Pen's arm, the major gave a shakyhand to one and the other, with no unaffected emotion and cordiality,and then went through another salutation to Laura, which caused her toblush still more. Happy blushes! bright eyes beaming with the light oflove! The story-teller turns from this group to his young audience,and hopes that one day their eyes may all shine so.
Pen having retreated in the most friendly manner, and the lovelyBlanche having bestowed her young affections upon a blushing bridegroom,with fifteen thousand a year, there was such an outbreak ofhappiness in Lady Clavering's heart and family as the good Begum hadnot known for many a year, and she and Blanche were on the mostdelightful terms of cordiality and affection. The ardent Foker pressedonward the happy day, and was as anxious as might be expected toabridge the period of mourning which had put him in possession of somany charms and amiable qualities, of which he had been only, as itwere, the heir apparent, not the actual owner, until then. The gentleBlanche, every thing that her affianced lord could desire, was notaverse to gratify the wishes of her fond Henry. Lady Clavering came upfrom Tunbridge. Milliners and jewelers were set to work and engaged toprepare the delightful paraphernalia of Hymen. Lady Clavering was insuch a good humor, that Sir Francis even benefited by it, and such areconciliation was effected between this pair, that Sir Francis cameto London, sate at the head of his own table once more, and appearedtolerably flush of money at his billiard-rooms and gambling-housesagain. One day, when Major Pendennis and Arthur went to dine inGrosvenor place, they found an old acquaintance established in thequality of major-domo, and the gentleman in black, who, with perfectpoliteness and gravity, offered them their choice of sweet or drychampagne, was no other than Mr. James Morgan. The Chevalier Strongwas one of the party; he was in high spirits and condition, andentertained the company with accounts of his amusements abroad.
"It was my lady who invited me," said Strong to Arthur, under hisvoice--"that fellow Morgan looked as black as thunder when I came in.He is about no good here. I will go away first, and wait for you andMajor Pendennis at Hyde Park Gate."
Mr. Morgan helped Major Pendennis to his great coat when he wasquitting the house; and muttered something about having accepted atemporary engagement with the Clavering family.
"I have got a paper of yours, Mr. Morgan," said the old gentleman.
"Which you can show, if you please, to Sir Francis, sir, and perfectlywelcome," said Mr. Morgan, with downcast eyes. "I'm very much obligedto you, Major Pendennis, and if I can pay you for all your kindnessI will."
Arthur overheard the sentence, and saw the look of hatred whichaccompanied it, suddenly cried out that he had forgotten hishandkerchief, and ran up-stairs to the drawing-room again. Foker wasstill there; still lingering about his siren. Pen gave the siren alook full of meaning, and we suppose that the siren understood meaninglooks, for when, after finding the veracious handkerchief of which hecame in quest, he once more went out, the siren, with a laughingvoice, said, "O, Arthur--Mr. Pendennis--I want you to tell dear Laurasomething?" and she came out to the door.
"What is it?" he asked, shutting the door.
"Have you told Harry? Do you know that villain Morgan knows all."
"I know it," she said.
"Have you told Harry?"
"No, no," she said. "You won't betray me?"
"Morgan will," said Pen.
"No, he wont," said Blanche. "I have promised him--_n'importe_. Waituntil after our marriage--O, until after our marriage--O, how wretchedI am," said the girl, who had been all smiles, and grace, and gayetyduring the evening.
Arthur said, "I beg and implore you to tell Harry. Tell him now. It isno fault of yours. He will pardon you any thing. Tell him tonight."
"And give her this--_Il est la_--with my love, please; and I beg yourpardon for calling you back; and if she will be at Madame Crinoline'sat half-past three, and if Lady Rockminster can spare her, I should solike to drive with her in the park;" and she went in, singing andkissing her little hand, as Morgan the velvet-footed came up thecarpeted stair.
Pen heard Blanche's piano breaking out into brilliant music as he wentdown to join his uncle; and they walked away together. Arthur brieflytold him what he had done. "What was to be done?" he asked.
"What is to be done, begad?" said the old gentleman. "What is to bedone but to leave it alone? Begad, let us be thankful," said the oldfellow, with a shudder, "that we are out of the business, and leave itto those it concerns."
"I hope to Heaven she'll tell him," said Pen.
"Begad, she'll take her own course," said the old man. "Miss Amory isa dev'lish wide-awake girl, sir, and must play her own cards; and I'mdoosid glad you are out of it--doosid glad, begad. Who's this smoking?O, it's Mr. Strong again. He wants to put in _his_ oar, I suppose. Itell you, don't meddle in the business, Arthur."
Strong began once or twice, as if to converse upon the subject, butthe major would not hear a word. He remarked on the moonlight onApsley House, the weather, the cab-stands--any thing but that subject.He bowed stiffly to Strong, and clung to his nephew's arm, as heturned down St. James's-street, and again cautioned Pen to leave theaffair alone. "It had like to have cost you so much, sir, that you maytake my advice," he said.
When Arthur came out of the hotel, Strong's cloak and cigar werevisible a few doors off. The jolly chevalier laughed as they met. "I'man old soldier too," he said. "I wanted to talk to you, Pendennis. Ihave heard of all that has happened, and all the chops and changesthat have taken place during my absence. I congratulate you on yourmarriage, and I congratulate you on your escape, too--you understandme. It was not my business to speak, but I know this, that a certainparty is as arrant a little--well--well, never mind what. You actedlike a man, and a trump, and are well out of it."
"I have no reason to complain," said Pen. "I went back to beg andentreat poor Blanche to tell Foker all: I hope, for her sake, shewill; but I fear not. There is but one policy, Strong, there isbut one."
"And lucky he that can stick to it," said the chevalier. "That rascalMorgan means mischief. He has been lurking about our chambers for thelast two months: he has found out that poor mad devil Amory's secret.He has been trying to discover where he was: he has been pumping Mr.Bolton, and making old Costigan drunk several times. He bribed the Innporter to tell him when we came back: and he has got into Clavering'sservice on the strength of his information. He will get very good payfor it, mark my words, the villain." "Where is Amory?" asked Pen.
"At Boulogne, I believe. I left him there, and warned him not to comeback. I have broken with him, after a desperate quarrel, such as onemight have expected with such a madman. And I'm glad to think that heis in my debt now, and that I have been the means of keeping him outof more harms than one."
"He has lost all his winnings, I suppose," said Pen.
"No: he is rather better than when he went away, or was a fortnightago. He had extraordinary luck at Baden: broke the bank severalnights, and was the fable of the place. He _lied_ himself there, witha fellow by the name of Bloundell, who gathered about him a society ofall sorts of sharpers, male and female, Russians, Germans, French,English. Amory got so insolent, that I was obliged to thrash him oneday within an inch of his life. I couldn't help myself; the fellow hasplenty of pluck, and I had nothing for it but to hit out."
"And did he call you out?" said Pen.
"You think if I had shot him I should have done nobody any harm? No,sir; I waited for his challenge, but it never came: and the next timeI met him he begged my pardon, and said, 'Strong, I beg your pardon;you whopped me and you served me right.' I shook hands: but I couldn'tlive with him after that. I pa
id him what I owed him the nightbefore," said Strong with a blush. "I pawned every thing to pay him,and then I went with my last ten florins, and had a shy at the_roulette_. If I had lost, I should have let him shoot me in themorning. I was weary of my life. By Jove, sir, isn't it a shame that aman like me, who may have had a few bills out, but who never deserteda friend, or did an unfair action, shouldn't be able to turn his handto any thing to get bread? I made a good night, sir, at _roulette_,and I've done with _that_. I'm going into the wine business. My wife'srelations live at Cadiz. I intend to bring over Spanish wine and hams;there's a fortune to be made by it, sir--a fortune--here's my card. Ifyou want any sherry or hams, recollect Ned Strong is your man." Andthe chevalier pulled out a handsome card, stating that Strong andCompany, Shepherd's Inn, were sole agents of the celebrated DiamondManzanilla of the Duke of Garbanzos, Grandee of Spain of the FirstClass; and of the famous Toboso hams, fed on acorns only in thecountry of Don Quixote. "Come and taste 'em, sir--come and try 'em atmy chambers. You see, I've an eye to business, and by Jove, this timeI'll succeed."
Pen laughed as he took the card. "I don't know whether I shall beallowed to go to bachelors' parties," he said. "You know I'mgoing to--"
"But you _must_ have sherry, sir. You must have sherry."
"I will have it from you, depend on it," said the other. "And I thinkyou are very well out of your other partnership. That worthy, Altamontand his daughter correspond, I hear," Pen added after a pause "Yes;she wrote him the longest rigmarole letters that I used to read: thesly little devil; and he answered under cover to Mrs. Bonner. He wasfor carrying her off the first day or two, and nothing would contenthim but having back his child. But she didn't want to come, as you mayfancy; and he was not very eager about it." Here the chevalier burstout in a laugh. "Why, sir, do you know what was the cause of ourquarrel and boxing match? There was a certain widow at Baden, a Madamela Baronne de la Cruche-cassee, who was not much better than himself,and whom the scoundrel wanted to marry; and would, but that I told herhe was married already. I don't think that she was much better than hewas. I saw her on the pier at Boulogne the day I came to England."
And now we have brought up our narrative to the point, whither theannouncement in the Chatteris Champion had already conducted us.
It wanted but very, very few days before that blissful one when Fokershould call Blanche his own; the Clavering folks had all pressed tosee the most splendid new carriage in the whole world, which wasstanding in the coach-house at the Clavering Arms; and shown, ingrateful return for drink, commonly, by Mr. Foker's head coachman.Madame Fribsby was occupied in making some lovely dresses for thetenants' daughters, who were to figure as a sort of bridemaids' chorusat the breakfast and marriage ceremony. And immense festivities wereto take place at the Park upon this delightful occasion.
"Yes, Mr. Huxter, yes; a happy tenantry, its country's pride, willassemble in the baronial hall, where the beards will wag all. The oxshall be slain, and the cup they'll drain; and the bells shall pealquite genteel; and my father-in-law, with the tear of sensibilitybedewing his eye, shall bless us at his baronial porch. That shall bethe order of proceedings, I think, Mr. Huxter; and I hope we shall seeyou and _your_ lovely bride by her husband's side; and what will youplease to drink, sir? Mrs. Lightfoot, madam, you will give to myexcellent friend and body surgeon, Mr. Huxter, Mr. Samuel Huxter,M.R.C.S., every refreshment that your hostel affords, and place thefestive amount to my account; and Mr. Lightfoot, sir, what will _you_take? though you've had enough already, I think; yes, ha."
So spoke Harry Foker in the bar of the Clavering Arms. He hadapartments at that hotel, and had gathered a circle of friends roundhim there. He treated all to drink who came. He was hail-fellow withevery man. He was so happy! He danced round Madam Fribsby, Mrs.Lightfoot's great ally, as she sate pensive in the bar. He consoledMrs. Lightfoot, who had already begun to have causes of matrimonialdisquiet; for the truth must be told, that young Lightfoot, having nowthe full command of the cellar, had none over his own unbridleddesires, and was tippling and tipsy from morning till night. And apiteous sight it was for his fond wife to behold the big youth reelingabout the yard and coffee-room, or drinking with the farmers andtradesmen his own neat wines and carefully-selected stock of spirits.
When he could find time, Mr. Morgan the butler came from the Park, andtook a glass at the expense of the landlord of the Clavering Arms. Hewatched poor Lightfoot's tipsy vagaries with savage sneers. Mrs.Lightfoot felt always doubly uncomfortable when her unhappy spouse wasunder his comrade's eye. But a few months married, and to think he hadgot to this. Madame Fribsby could feel for her. Madame Fribsby couldtell her stories of men every bit as bad. She had had her own woestoo, and her sad experience of men. So it is that nobody seems happyaltogether; and that there's bitters, as Mr. Foker remarked, in thecup of every man's life. And yet there did not seem to be any in his,the honest young fellow! It was brimming over with happiness andgood-humor.
Mr. Morgan was constant in his attentions to Foker. "And yet I don'tlike him somehow," said the candid young man to Mrs. Lightfoot. "Healways seems as if he was measuring me for my coffin somehow.Pa-in-law's afraid of him; pa-in-law's, a-hem! never mind, but ma-in-law'sa trump, Mrs. Lightfoot."
"Indeed my lady was;" and Mrs. Lightfoot owned, with a sigh, thatperhaps it had been better for her had she never left her mistress.
"No, I do not like thee, Dr. Fell: the reason why I can not tell,"continued Mr. Foker; "and he wants to be taken as my head man. Blanchewants me to take him. Why does Miss Amory like him so?"
"Did Miss Blanche like him so?" The notion seemed to disturb Mrs.Lightfoot very much; and there came to this worthy landlady anothercause for disturbance. A letter bearing the Boulogne postmark, wasbrought to her one morning, and she and her husband were quarrelingover it as Foker passed down the stairs by the bar, on his way to thePark. His custom was to breakfast there, and bask awhile in thepresence of Armida; then, as the company of Clavering tired himexceedingly, and he did not care for sporting, he would return for anhour or two to billiards and the society of the Clavering Arms; thenit would be time to ride with Miss Amory, and, after dining with her,he left her and returned modestly to his inn.
Lightfoot and his wife were quarreling over the letter. What was thatletter from abroad? Why was she always having letters from abroad? Whowrote 'em?--he would know. He didn't believe it was her brother. Itwas no business of his? It _was_ a business of his; and, with a curse,he seized hold of his wife, and dashed at her pocket for the letter.
The poor woman gave a scream; and said, "Well, take it." Just as herhusband seized on the letter, and Mr. Foker entered at the door, shegave another scream at seeing him, and once more tried to seize thepaper. Lightfoot opened it, shaking her away, and an inclosure droppeddown on the breakfast table.
"Hands off, man alive!" cried little Harry, springing in. "Don't layhands on a woman, sir. The man that lays his hand upon a woman, savein the way of kindness, is a--hallo! it's a letter for Miss Amory.What's this, Mrs. Lightfoot?"
Mrs. Lightfoot began, in piteous tones of reproach to her husband--"You unmanly! to treat a woman so who took you off the street. O youcoward, to lay your hand upon your wife! Why did I marry you? Why didI leave my lady for you? Why did I spend eight hundred pound infitting up this house that you might drink and guzzle?"
"She gets letters, and she won't tell me who writes letters," said Mr.Lightfoot, with a muzzy voice, "it's a family affair, sir. Will youtake any thing, sir?"
"I will take this letter to Miss Amory, as I am going to the Park,"said Foker, turning very pale; and taking it up from the table, whichwas arranged for the poor landlady's breakfast, he went away.
"He's comin'--dammy, who's a-comin'? Who's J.A., Mrs. Lightfoot--curse me, who's J.A.," cried the husband.
Mrs. Lightfoot cried out, "Be quiet, you tipsy brute, do,"--andrunning to her bonnet and shawl, threw them on, saw Mr. Foker walkingdown the street, took the by-lane which skirts it, and ran as quicklyas s
he could to the lodge-gate, Clavering Park. Foker saw a runningfigure before him, but it was lost when he got to the lodge-gate. Hestopped and asked, "Who was that who had just come in? Mrs. Bonner,was it?" He reeled almost in his walk: the trees swam before him. Herested once or twice against the trunks of the naked limes.
Lady Clavering was in the breakfast-room with her son, and her husbandyawning over his paper. "Good-morning, Harry," said the Begum. "Here'sletters, lots of letters; Lady Rockminster will be here on Tuesdayinstead of Monday, and Arthur and the major come to-day; and Laura isto go Dr. Portman's, and come to church from there: and--what's thematter, my dear? What makes you so pale Harry?"
"Where is Blanche?" asked Harry, in a sickening voice "not down yet?"
"Blanche is always the last," said the boy, eating muffins; "she's aregular dawdle, she is. When you're not here, she lays in bed tilllunch time."
"Be quiet, Frank," said the mother.
Blanche came down presently, looking pale, and with rather an eagerlook toward Foker; then she advanced and kissed her mother, and had aface beaming with her very best smiles on when she greeted Harry.
"How do you do, sir?" she said, and put out both her hands.
"I'm ill," answered Harry. "I--I've brought a letter for you, Blanche."
"A letter, and from whom is it pray? _Voyons_" she said.
"I don't know--I should like to know," said Foker.
"How can I tell until I see it?" asked Blanche. "Has Mrs. Bonner nottold you?" he said, with a shaking voice; "there's some secret. _You_give her the letter, Lady Clavering."
Lady Clavering, wondering, took the letter from poor Foker's shakinghand, and looked at the superscription. As she looked at it, she toobegan to shake in every limb, and with a scared face she dropped theletter, and running up to Frank, clutched the boy to her, and burstout with a sob, "Take that away--it's impossible, it's impossible."
"What is the matter?" cried Blanche, with rather a ghastly smile, "theletter is only from--from a poor pensioner and relative of ours."
"It's not true, it's not true," screamed Lady Clavering. "No, myFrank--is it Clavering?"
Blanche had taken up the letter, and was moving with it toward thefire, but Foker ran to her and clutched her arm, "I must see thatletter," he said; "give it to me. You shan't burn it."
"You--you shall not treat Miss Amory so in my house," cried thebaronet; "give back the letter, by Jove!"
"Read it--and look at her," Blanche cried, pointing to her mother;"it--it was for her I kept the secret! Read it, cruel man!"
And Foker opened and read the letter:
"I have not wrote, my darling Bessy, this three weeks; but this is togive her a _father's blessing_, and I shall come down pretty soon asquick as my note, and intend to see _the ceremony, and my son-in-law_.I shall put up at Bonner's. I have had a pleasant autumn, and amstaying here at an hotel where there _is good company_, and which iskep' _in good style_. I don't know whether I quite approve of yourthrowing over Mr. P. for Mr. F., and don't think Foker's _such apretty name_, and from your account of him he seems a _muff_, and _nota beauty_. But he has got _the rowdy_, which is the thing. So no more,my dear little Betsy, till we meet, from your affectionate father,"
"J. AMORY ALTAMONT."
"Read it, Lady Clavering; it is too late to keep it from you now,"said poor Foker; and the distracted woman, having cast her eyes overit, again broke out into hysterical screams, and convulsivelygrasped her son.
"They have made an outcast of you, my boy," she said. "They'vedishonored your old mother; but I'm innocent, Frank; before God, I'minnocent. I didn't know this, Mr. Foker; indeed, indeed, I didn't."
"I'm sure you didn't," said Foker, going up and kissing her hand.
"Generous, generous Harry," cried out Blanche in an ecstasy. But hewithdrew his hand, which was upon _her_ side, and turned from her witha quivering lip. "That's different," he says.
"It was for her sake--for her sake, Harry." Again Miss Amory is in anattitude.
"There was something to be done for mine" said Foker. "I would havetaken you, whatever you were. Every thing's talked about in London. Iknew that your father had come to--to grief. You don't think itwas--it was for your connection I married you? D--it all! I've lovedyou with all my heart and soul for two years, and you've been playingwith me, and cheating me," broke out the young man, with a cry. "Oh,Blanche, Blanche, it's a hard thing, a hard thing!" and he covered hisface with his hands, and sobbed behind them.
Blanche thought, "Why didn't I tell him that night when Arthur warnedme?"
"Don't refuse her, Harry," cried Lady Clavering. "Take her, take everything I have. It's all hers, you know, at my death. This boy'sdisinherited."--(Master Frank, who had been looking as scared at thestrange scene, here burst into a loud cry.)--"Take every shilling.Give me just enough to live, and to go and hide my head with thischild, and to fly from both. Oh, they've both been bad, bad men.Perhaps he's here now. Don't let me see him. Clavering, you coward,defend me from him."
Clavering started up at this proposal. "You ain't serious, Jemima? Youdon't mean that?" he said. "You won't throw me and Frank over? Ididn't know it, so help me----. Foker I'd no more idea of it than thedead--until the fellow came and found me out, the d--d escaped convictscoundrel."
"The what?" said Foker. Blanche gave a scream.
"Yes," screamed out the baronet in his turn, "yes, a d--d runawayconvict--a fellow that forged his father-in-law's name--a d--dattorney, and killed a fellow in Botany Bay, hang him--and ran intothe Bush, curse him; I wish he'd died there. And he came to me, a goodsix years ago and robbed me; and I've been ruining myself to keep him,the infernal scoundrel! And Pendennis knows it, and Strong knows it,and that d--d Morgan knows it, and she knows it, ever so long; and Inever would tell it, never: and I kept it from my wife."
"And you saw him, and you didn't kill him, Clavering, you coward?"said the wife of Amory. "Come away, Frank; your father's a coward. Iam dishonored, but I'm your old mother, and you'll--you'll love me,won't you?"
Blanche _eploree_, went up to her mother; but Lady Clavering shrankfrom her with a sort of terror. "Don't touch me," she said; "you've noheart; you never had. I see all now. I see why that coward was goingto give up his place in Parliament to Arthur; yes, that coward! andwhy you threatened that you would make me give you half Frank'sfortune. And when Arthur offered to marry you without a shilling,because he wouldn't rob my boy, you left him, and you took poor Harry.Have nothing to do with her, Harry. You're good, you are. Don't marrythat--that convict's daughter. Come away, Frank, my darling; come toyour poor old mother. We'll hide ourselves; but we're honest, yes, weare honest."
All this while a strange feeling of exultation had taken possession ofBlanche's mind. That month with poor Harry had been a weary month toher. All his fortune and splendor scarcely sufficed to make the ideaof himself supportable. She was weaned of his simple ways, and sick ofcoaxing and cajoling him.
"Stay, mamma; stay, madam!" she cried out with a gesture, which wasalways appropriate, though rather theatrical; "I have no heart? haveI? I keep the secret of my mother's shame. I give up my rights to myhalf-brother and my bastard brother--yes, my rights and my fortune. Idon't betray my father, and for this I have no heart. I'll have myrights now, and the laws of my country shall give them to me. I appealto my country's laws--yes, my country's laws! The persecuted onereturns this day. I desire to go to my father." And the little ladyswept round her hand, and thought that she was a heroine.
"You will, will you?" cried out Clavering, with one of his usualoaths. "I'm a magistrate, and dammy, I'll commit him. Here's a chaisecoming; perhaps it's him. Let him come."
A chaise was indeed coming up the avenue; and the two women shriekedeach their loudest, expecting at that moment to see Altamont arrive.
The door opened, and Mr. Morgan announced Major Pendennis and Mr.Pendennis, who entered, and found all parties engaged in this fiercequarrel. A large screen fenced the breakfast-room from the hall; andit is pr
obable that, according to his custom, Mr. Morgan had takenadvantage of the screen to make himself acquainted with allthat occurred.
It had been arranged on the previous day that the young people shouldride; and at the appointed hour in the afternoon, Mr. Foker's horsesarrived from the Clavering Arms. But Miss Blanche did not accompanyhim on this occasion. Pen came out and shook hands with him on thedoor-steps; and Harry Foker rode away, followed by his groom, inmourning. The whole transactions which have occupied the most activepart of our history were debated by the parties concerned during thosetwo or three hours. Many counsels had been given, stories told, andcompromises suggested; and at the end, Harry Foker rode away, with asad "God bless you!" from Pen. There was a dreary dinner at ClaveringPark, at which the lately installed butler did not attend; and theladies were both absent. After dinner, Pen said, "I will walk down toClavering and see if he is come." And he walked through the darkavenue, across the bridge and road by his own cottage--the once quietand familiar fields of which were flaming with the kilns and forges ofthe artificers employed on the new railroad works; and so he enteredthe town, and made for the Clavering Arms.
It was past midnight when he returned to Clavering Park. He wasexceedingly pale and agitated. "Is Lady Clavering up yet?" he asked.Yes, she was in her own sitting-room. He went up to her, and therefound the poor lady in a piteous state of tears and agitation. "It isI--Arthur," he said, looking in; and entering, he took her hand veryaffectionately and kissed it. "You were always the kindest of friendsto me, dear Lady Clavering," he said. "I love you very much. I havegot some news for you."
"Don't call me by that name," she said, pressing his hand. "You werealways a good boy, Arthur; and it's kind of you to come now--verykind. You sometimes look very like your ma, my dear."
"Dear, good _Lady Clavering_," Arthur repeated, with particularemphasis, "something very strange has happened."
"Has any thing happened to him?" gasped Lady Clavering. "O, it'shorrid to think I should be glad of it--horrid!"
"He is well. He has been and is gone, my dear lady. Don't alarmyourself--he is gone, and you are Lady Clavering still."
"Is it true? what he sometimes said to me," she screamed out--"thathe--"
"He was married before he married you," said Pen. "He has confessed itto-night. He will never come back." There came another shriek fromLady Clavering, as she flung her arms round Pen, and kissed him, andburst into tears on his shoulder.
What Pen had to tell, through a multiplicity of sobs andinterruptions, must be compressed briefly, for behold our prescribedlimit is reached, and our tale is coming to its end. With the BranchCoach from the railroad, which had succeeded the old Alacrity andPerseverance, Amory arrived, and was set down at the Clavering Arms.He ordered his dinner at the place under his assumed name of Altamont,and, being of a jovial turn, he welcomed the landlord, who was nothingloth, to a share of his wine. Having extracted from Mr. Lightfoot allthe news regarding the family at the Park, and found, from examininghis host, that Mrs. Lightfoot, as she said, had kept his counsel, hecalled for more wine of Mr. Lightfoot, and at the end of thissymposium, both being greatly excited, went into Mrs. Lightfoot's bar.
She was there taking tea with her friend, Madame Fribsby; andLightfoot was by this time in such a happy state as not to besurprised at any thing which might occur, so that, when Altamont shookhands with Mrs. Lightfoot as an old acquaintance, the recognition didnot appear to him to be in the least strange, but only a reasonablecause for further drinking. The gentlemen partook then ofbrandy-and-water, which they offered to the ladies, not heeding theterrified looks of one or the other.
While they were so engaged, at about six o'clock in the evening, Mr.Morgan, Sir Francis Clavering's new man, came in, and was requested todrink. He selected his favorite beverage, and the parties engaged ingeneral conversation.
After awhile Mr. Lightfoot began to doze. Mr. Morgan had repeatedlygiven hints to Mrs. Fribsby to quit the premises; but that lady,strangely fascinated, and terrified, it would seem, or persuaded byMrs. Lightfoot not to go, kept her place. Her persistenceoccasioned much annoyance to Mr. Morgan, who vented his displeasure insuch language as gave pain to Mrs. Lightfoot, and caused Mr. Altamontto say, that he was a rum customer, and not polite to the sex.
The altercation between the two gentlemen became very painful to thewomen, especially to Mrs. Lightfoot, who did every thing to soothe Mr.Morgan; and, under pretense of giving a pipe-light to the stranger,she handed him a paper on which she had privily written the words, "Heknows you. Go." There may have been something suspicious in her mannerof handing, or in her guest's of reading the paper; for when he got upa short time afterward, and said he would go to bed, Morgan rose too,with a laugh, and said it was too early to go to bed.
The stranger then said, he would go to his bedroom. Morgan said hewould show him the way.
At this the guest said, "Come up. I've got a brace of pistols up thereto blow out the brains of any traitor or skulking spy," and glared sofiercely upon Morgan, that the latter, seizing hold of Lightfoot bythe collar, and waking him, said, "John Amory, I arrest you in theQueen's name. Stand by me, Lightfoot. This capture is worth athousand pounds."
He put forward his hand as if to seize his prisoner, but the other,doubling his fist, gave Morgan with his left hand so fierce a blow onthe chest, that it knocked him back behind Mr. Lightfoot. Thatgentleman, who was athletic and courageous, said he would knock hisguest's head off, and prepared to do so, as the stranger, tearing offhis coat, and cursing both of his opponents, roared to them tocome on.
But with a piercing scream Mrs. Lightfoot flung herself before herhusband, while with another and louder shriek Madame Fribsby ran tothe stranger, and calling out "Armstrong, Johnny Armstrong!" seizedhold of his naked arm, on which a blue tattooing of a heart and M.F.were visible.
The ejaculation of Madame Fribsby seemed to astound and sober thestranger. He looked down upon her, and cried out, "It's Polly,by Jove."
Mrs. Fribsby continued to exclaim, "This is not Amory. This is JohnnyArmstrong, my wicked--wicked husband, married to me in St. Martin'sChurch, mate on board an Indiaman, and he left me two months after,the wicked wretch. This is John Armstrong--here's the mark on his armwhich he made for me."
The stranger said, "I am John Armstrong, sure enough, Polly. I'm JohnArmstrong, Amory, Altamont--and let 'em all come on, and try what theycan do against a British sailor. Hurray, who's for it!"
Morgan still called, "Arrest him!" But Mrs. Lightfoot said, "Arresthim! arrest you, you mean spy! What! stop the marriage and ruin mylady, and take away the Clavering Arms from us?"
"_Did_ he say he'd take away the Clavering Arms from us?" asked Mr.Lightfoot, turning round, "Hang him, I'll throttle him." "Keep him,darling, till the coach passes to the up train. It'll he here nowdirectly."
"D--him, I'll choke him if he stirs," said Lightfoot. And so theykept Morgan until the coach came, and Mr. Amory or Armstrong went awayhack to London.
Morgan had followed him: but of this event Arthur Pendennis did notinform Lady Clavering, and left her invoking blessings upon him at herson's door, going to kiss him as he was asleep. It had been abusy day.
We have to chronicle the events of but one day more, and that was aday when Mr. Arthur, attired in a new hat, a new blue frock-coat, andblue handkerchief, in a new fancy waistcoat, new boots, and newshirt-studs (presented by the Right Honorable the Countess Dowager ofRockminster), made his appearance at a solitary breakfast-table, inClavering Park, where he could scarce eat a single morsel of food. Twoletters were laid by his worship's plate; and he chose to open thefirst, which was in a round clerk-like hand, in preference to thesecond more familiar superscription.
Note 1 ran as follows:
"GARBANZOS WINE COMPANY, SHEPHERD'S INN.--_Monday_.
"MY DEAR PENDENNIS--In congratulating you heartily upon the eventwhich is to make you happy for life, I send my very kindestremembrances to Mrs. Pendennis, whom I hope to know even longer than Ihave already
known her. And when I call her attention to the fact,that one of the most necessary articles to her husband's comfort is_pure sherry_, I know I shall have her for a customer for yourworship's sake.
"But I have to speak to you of other than my own concerns. Yesterdayafternoon, a certain J.A. arrived at my chambers from Clavering, whichhe had left under circumstances of which you are doubtless now aware.In spite of our difference, I could not but give him food and shelter(and he partook freely both of the Garbanzos Amontillado and theToboso ham), and he told me what had happened to him, and many othersurprising adventures. The rascal married at sixteen, and hasrepeatedly since performed that ceremony--in Sidney, in New Zealand,in South America, in Newcastle, he says first, before he knew our poorfriend the milliner. He is a perfect Don Juan.
"And it seemed as if the commendatore had at last overtaken him, for,as we were at our meal, there came three heavy knocks at my outerdoor, which made our friend start. I have sustained a siege or twohere, and went to my usual place to reconnoiter. Thank my stars I havenot a bill out in the world, and besides, _those_ gentry do not comein that way. I found that it was your uncle's late valet, Morgan, anda policeman (I think a sham policeman), and they said they had awarrant to take the person of John Armstrong, alias Amory, aliasAltamont, a runaway convict, and threatened to break in the oak. Now,sir, in my own days of captivity I had discovered a little passagealong the gutter into Bows and Costigan's window, and I sent JackAlias along this covered way, not without terror of his life, for ithad grown very cranky; and then, after a parley, let in Mons. Morganand friend.
"The rascal had been instructed about that covered way, for he madefor the room instantly, telling the policeman to go down stairs andkeep the gate; and he charged up my little staircase as if he hadknown, the premises. As he was going out of the window we heard avoice that you know, from Bow's garret, saying, 'Who are ye, and hwhatthe divvle are ye at? You'd betther leave the gutther; bedad there's aman killed himself already.'
"And as Morgan, crossing over and looking into the darkness, wastrying to see whether this awful news was true, he took a broom-stick,and with a vigorous dash broke down the pipe of communication--andtold me this morning, with great glee, that he was reminded of that'aisy sthratagem by remembering his dorling Emilie, when she acted thepawrt of Cora in the Plee--and by the bridge in Pezawro, bedad: I wishthat scoundrel Morgan had been on the bridge when the general triedhis 'sthratagem.'
"If I hear more of Jack Alias I will tell you. He has got plenty ofmoney still, and I wanted him to send some to our poor friend themilliner; but the scoundrel laughed and said, he had no more than hewanted, but offered to give any body a lock of his hair. Farewell--behappy! and believe me always truly yours.
"E. STRONG."
"And now for the other letter," said Pen. "Dear old fellow!" and hekissed the seal before he broke it.
"WARRINGTON, _Tuesday_.
"I must not let the day pass over without saying a God bless you, toboth of you. May heaven make you happy, dear Arthur, and dear Laura. Ithink, Pen, that you have the best wife in the world; and pray that,as such, you will cherish her and tend her. The chambers will belonely without you, dear Pen; but if I am tired, I shall have a newhome to go to in the house of my brother and sister. I am practicingin the nursery here, in order to prepare for the part of Uncle George.Farewell! make your wedding tour, and come back to your affectionate
"G. W."
Pendennis and his wife read this letter together after DoctorPortman's breakfast was over, and the guests were gone; and when thecarriage was waiting amidst the crowd at the doctor's outer gate. Butthe wicket led into the church-yard of St Mary's where the bells werepealing with all their might, and it was here, over Helen's greengrass, that Arthur showed his wife George's letter. For which of thosetwo--for grief was it or for happiness, that Laura's tears abundantlyfell on the paper? And once more, in the presence of the sacred dust,she kissed and blessed her Arthur.
There was only one marriage on that day at Clavering Church; for inspite of Blanche's sacrifices for her dearest mother, honest HarryFoker could not pardon the woman who had deceived her husband, andjustly argued that she would deceive him again. He went to thePyramids and Syria, and there left his malady behind him, and returnedwith a fine beard, and a supply of tarbooshes and nargillies, withwhich he regales all his friends. He lives splendidly, and throughPen's mediation, gets his wine from the celebrated vintages of theDuke of Garbanzos.
As for poor Cos, his fate has been mentioned in an early part of thisstory. No very glorious end could be expected to such a career. Morganis one of the most respectable men in the parish of St. James's, andin the present political movement has pronounced himself like a manand a Briton. And Bows--on the demise of Mr. Piper, who played theorgan at Clavering, little Mrs. Sam Huxter, who has the entire commandof Doctor Portman, brought Bows down from London to contest the organchair loft, and her candidate carried the chair. When Sir FrancisClavering quitted this worthless life, the same little indefatigablecanvasser took the borough by storm, and it is now represented byArthur Pendennis, Esq.. Blanche Amory, it is well known, married atParis, and the saloons of Madame la Comtesse de Montmorenci deValentinois were among the most _suivis_ of that capital. The duelbetween the count and the young and fiery Representative of theMountain, Alcide de Mirobo, arose solely from the latter questioningat the Club the titles borne by the former nobleman. Madame deMontmorenci de Valentinois traveled after the adventure: and Bungaybought her poems, and published them, with the countess's coronetemblazoned on the countess's work.
Major Pendennis became very serious in his last days, and was neverso happy as when Laura was reading to him with her sweet voice, orlistening to his stories. For this sweet lady is the friend of the youngand the old: and her life is always passed in making other liveshappy.
"And what sort of a husband would this Pendennis be?" many areader will ask, doubting the happiness of such a marriage, and thefortune of Laura. The querists, if they meet her, are referred to thatlady herself, who, seeing his faults and wayward moods--seeing andowning that there are men better than he--loves him always with themost constant affection. His children or their mother have never hearda harsh word from him; and when his fits of moodiness and solitudeare over, welcome him back with a never-failing regard and confidence.His friend is his friend still--entirely heart-whole. That malady isnever fatal to a sound organ. And George goes through his part ofgodpapa perfectly, and lives alone. If Mr. Pen's works have procuredhim more reputation than has been acquired by his abler friend, whomno one knows, George lives contented without the fame. If the bestmen do not draw the great prizes in life, we know it has been so settledby the Ordainer of the lottery. We own, and see daily, how the falseand worthless live and prosper, while the good are called away, and thedear and young perish untimely--we perceive in every man's life themaimed happiness, the frequent falling, the bootless endeavor, thestruggle of Right and Wrong, in which the strong often succumb andthe swift fail: we see flowers of good blooming in foul places, as, in themost lofty and splendid fortunes, flaws of vice and meanness, and stainsof evil; and, knowing how mean the best of us is, let us give a hand ofcharity to Arthur Pendennis, with all his faults and shortcomings, whodoes not claim to be a hero but only a man and a brother.
THE END.
The History of Pendennis, Volume 2 Page 37