Henrietta Temple: A Love Story

by Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  _Ferdinand Is Arrested by Messrs. Morris and Levison, and Taken to a Spunging-House_.

  IT MUST be confessed that the affairs of our friends were in a criticalstate: everyone interested felt that something decisive in theirrespective fortunes was at hand. And, yet, so vain are all human plansand calculations, that the unavoidable crisis was brought about byan incident which no one anticipated. It so happened that the stormyinterview between Sir Ratcliffe and his son was overheard by a servant.This servant, who had been engaged by Miss Grandison in London, was amember of a club to which a confidential clerk of Messrs. Morris andLevison belonged. In the ensuing evening, when this worthy knight ofthe shoulder-knot just dropped out for an hour to look in at this choicesociety, smoke a pipe, and talk over the affairs of his mistress andthe nation, he announced the important fact that the match between MissGrandison and Captain Armine was 'no go,' which, for his part, hedid not regret, as he thought his mistress ought to look higher. Theconfidential clerk of Messrs. Morris and Levison listened in silence tothis important intelligence, and communicated it the next morning tohis employers. And so it happened that a very few days afterwards,as Ferdinand was lying in bed at his hotel, the door of his chambersuddenly opened, and an individual, not of the most prepossessingappearance, being much marked with smallpox, reeking with gin, andwearing top-boots and a belcher handkerchief, rushed into his room andenquired whether he were Captain Armine.

  'The same,' said Ferdinand. 'And pray, sir, who are you?'

  'Don't wish to be unpleasant,' was the answer, 'but, sir, you are myprisoner.'

  There is something exceedingly ignoble in an arrest: Ferdinand felt thatsickness come over him which the uninitiated in such ceremonies mustexperience. However, he rallied, and enquired at whose suit theseproceedings were taken.

  'Messrs. Morris and Levison, sir.'

  'Cannot I send for my lawyer and give bail?'

  The bailiff shook his head. 'You see, sir, you are taken in execution,so it is impossible.'

  'And the amount of the debt?'

  'Is 2,800L., sir.'

  'Well, what am I to do?'

  'Why, sir, you must go along with us. We will do it very quietly. Myfollower is in a hackney-coach at the door, sir. You can just step inas pleasant as possible. I suppose you would like to go to a house, andthen you can send for your friends, you know.'

  'Well, if you will go down stairs, I will come to you.'

  The bailiff grinned. 'Can't let you out of my sight, sir.'

  'Why, I cannot dress if you are here.'

  The bailiff examined the room to see if there were any mode of escape;there was no door but the entrance; the window offered no chance. 'Well,sir,' he said, 'I likes to do things pleasant. I can stand outside, sir;but you must be quick.'

  Ferdinand rang for his servant. When Louis clearly understood the stateof affairs, he was anxious to throw the bailiff out of the window, buthis master prevented him. Mr. Glastonbury had gone out some two hours;Ferdinand sent Louis with a message to his family, to say he was aboutleaving town for a few days; and impressing upon him to be careful notto let them know in Brook-street what had occurred, he completed hisrapid toilet and accompanied the sheriff's officer to the hackney-coachthat was prepared for him.

  As they jogged on in silence, Ferdinand revolved in his mind how itwould be most advisable for him to act. Any application to his ownlawyer was out of the question. That had been tried before, and hefelt assured that there was not the slightest chance of that gentlemandischarging so large a sum, especially when he was aware that it wasonly a portion of his client's liabilities; he thought of applying foradvice to Count Mirabel or Lord Catchimwhocan, but with what view? Hewould not borrow the money of them, even if they would lend it; and asit was, he bitterly reproached himself for having availed himself soeasily of Mr. Bond Sharpe's kind offices. At this moment, he could notpersuade himself that his conduct had been strictly honourable to thatgentleman. He had not been frank in the exposition of his situation.The money had been advanced under a false impression, if not absolutelyborrowed under a false pretence. He cursed Catchimwhocan and his levity.The honour of the Armines was gone, like everything else that oncebelonged to them. The result of Ferdinand's reflections was, that hewas utterly done up; that no hope or chance of succour remained forhim; that his career was closed; and not daring to contemplate whatthe consequences might be to his miserable parents, he made a desperateeffort to command his feelings.

  Here the coach turned up a dingy street, leading out of the lower endof Oxford-street, and stopped before a large but gloomy dwelling, whichFerdinand's companion informed him was a spunging-house. 'I suppose youwould like to have a private room, sir; you can have every accommodationhere, sir, and feel quite at home, I assure you.'

  In pursuance of this suggestion, Captain Armine was ushered intothe best drawing-room, with barred windows, and treated in the mostaristocratic manner. It was evidently the chamber reserved only forunfortunate gentlemen of the utmost distinction. It was amply furnishedwith a mirror, a loo-table, and a very hard sofa. The walls were hungwith old-fashioned caricatures by Bunbury; the fire-irons were ofpolished brass; over the mantel-piece was the portrait of the master ofthe house, which was evidently a speaking likeness, and in whichCaptain Armine fancied he traced no slight resemblance to his friend Mr.Levison; and there were also some sources of literary amusement in theroom, in the shape of a Hebrew Bible and the Racing Calendar.

  After walking up and down the room for an hour, meditating over thepast, for it seemed hopeless to trouble himself any further with thefuture, Ferdinand began to feel faint, for it may be recollected that hehad not even breakfasted. So pulling the bell-rope with such force thatit fell to the ground, a funny little waiter immediately appeared, awedby the sovereign ring, and having, indeed, received private intelligencefrom the bailiff that the gentleman in the drawing-room was a regularnob.

  And here, perhaps, I should remind the reader, that of all the greatdistinctions in life none perhaps is more important than that whichdivides mankind into the two great sections of NOBS and SNOBS. It mightseem at the first glance, that if there were a place in the world whichshould level all distinctions, it would be a debtors' prison. But thiswould be quite an error. Almost at the very moment that Captain Arminearrived at his sorrowful hotel, a poor devil of a tradesman who had beenarrested for fifty pounds, and torn from his wife and family, had beenforced to repair to the same asylum. He was introduced into what isstyled the coffee-room, being a long, low, unfurnished sanded chamber,with a table and benches; and being very anxious to communicate withsome friend, in order, if possible, to effect his release, and preventhimself from being a bankrupt, he had continued meekly to ring atintervals for the last half-hour in order that he might write andforward his letter. The waiter heard the coffee-room bell ring, butnever dreamed of noticing it, though the moment the signal of theprivate room sounded, and sounded with so much emphasis, he rushedupstairs, three steps at a time, and instantly appeared before our hero:and all this difference was occasioned by the simple circumstance, thatCaptain Armine was a NOB, and the poor tradesman a SNOB.

  'I am hungry,' said Ferdinand. 'Can I get anything to eat at this damnedplace?'

  'What would you like, sir? Anything you choose, sir. Mutton chop, rumpsteak, weal cutlet? Do you a fowl in a quarter of an hour; roast orboiled, sir?'

  'I have not breakfasted yet; bring me some breakfast.'

  'Yes, sir,' said the little waiter. 'Tea, sir? Coffee, eggs, toast,buttered toast, sir? Like any meat, sir? Ham, sir? Tongue, sir? Like adevil, sir?'

  'Anything, everything, only be quick.'

  'Yes, sir,' responded the waiter. 'Beg pardon, sir. No offence, I hope,but custom to pay here, sir. Shall be happy to accommodate you, sir.Know what a gentleman is.'

  'Thank you, I will not trouble you,' said Ferdinand; 'get me that notechanged.'

  'Yes, sir,' replied the little waiter, bowing very low as hedi
sappeared.

  'Gentleman in best drawing-room wants breakfast. Gentleman in bestdrawing-room wants change for a ten-pound note. Breakfast immediatelyfor gentleman in best drawing-room. Tea, coffee, toast, ham, tongue, anda devil. A regular nob!'

  Ferdinand was so exhausted that he had postponed all deliberation as tohis situation until he had breakfasted; and when he had breakfasted,he felt dull. It is the consequence of all meals. In whatever lighthe viewed his affairs, they seemed inextricable. He was now in aspunging-house; he could not long remain here, he must be soon in agaol. A gaol! What a bitter termination of all his great plans andhopes! What a situation for one who had been betrothed to HenriettaTemple! He thought of his cousin, he thought of her great fortune,which might have been his. Perhaps at this moment they were all ridingtogether in the Park. In a few days all must be known to his father. Hedid not doubt of the result. Armine would immediately be sold, andhis father and mother, with the wretched wreck of their fortune, wouldretire to the Continent. What a sad vicissitude! And he had done it all;he, their only child, their only hope, on whose image they had lived,who was to restore the house. He looked at the bars of his windows, itwas a dreadful sight. His poor father, his fond mother, he was quitesure their hearts would break. They never could survive all this misery,this bitter disappointment of all their chopes. Little less than a yearago and he was at Bath, and they were all joy and triumph. What a wildscene had his life been since! O Henrietta! why did we ever meet? Thatfatal, fatal morning! The cedar tree rose before him, he recalled, heremembered everything. And poor Glastonbury--it was a miserable end. Hecould not disguise it from himself, he had been most imprudent, hehad been mad. And yet so near happiness, perfect, perfect happiness!Henrietta might have been his, and they might have been so happy!This confinement was dreadful; it began to press upon his nerves. Nooccupation, not the slightest resource. He took up the Racing Calendar,he threw it down again. He knew all the caricatures by heart, theyinfinitely disgusted him. He walked up and down the room till he was sotired that he flung himself upon the hard sofa. It was intolerable.

  A gaol must be preferable to this. There must be some kind of wretchedamusement in a gaol; but this ignoble, this humiliating solitude, he wasconfident he should go mad if he remained here. He rang the bell again.

  'Yes, sir,' said the little waiter.

  'This place is intolerable to me,' said Captain Armine. 'I really amquite sick of it. What can I do?'

  The waiter looked a little perplexed.

  'I should like to go to gaol at once,' said Ferdinand.

  'Lord! sir!' said the little waiter.

  'Yes! I cannot bear this,' he continued; 'I shall go mad.'

  'Don't you think your friends will call soon, sir?'

  'I have no friends,' said Ferdinand. 'I hope nobody will call.'

  'No friends!' said the little waiter, who began to think Ferdinand wasnot such a nob as he had imagined. 'Why, if you have no friends, sir, itwould be best to go to the Fleet, I think.'

  'By Jove, I think it would be better.'

  'Master thinks your friends will call, I am sure.'

  'Nobody knows I am here,' said Ferdinand.

  'Oh!' said the little waiter, 'You want to let them know, do you, sir?'

  'Anything sooner; I wish to conceal my disgrace.'

  'O sir! you are not used to it; I dare say you never were nabbedbefore?'

  'Certainly not.'

  'There it is; if you will be patient, you will see everything go well.'

  'Never, my good fellow; nothing can go well.'

  'O sir! you are not used to it. A regular nob like you, nabbed for thefirst time, and for such a long figure, sir, sure not to be diddled.Never knowed such a thing yet. Friends sure to stump down, sir.'

  'The greater the claim, the more difficulty in satisfying it, I shouldthink,' said Ferdinand.

  'Lord! no, sir: you are not used to it. It is only poor devils nabbedfor their fifties and hundreds that are ever done up. A nob was nevernabbed for the sum you are, sir, and ever went to the wall. Trust myexperience. I never knowed such a thing.'

  Ferdinand could scarcely refrain from a smile. Even the conversation ofthe little waiter was a relief to him.

  'You see, sir,' continued that worthy, 'Morris and Levison would neverhave given you such a deuce of a tick unless they knowed your resources.Trust Morris and Levison for that. You done up, sir! a nob like you,that Morris and Levison have trusted for such a tick! Lord! sir,you don't know nothing about it. I could afford to give them fifteenshillings in the pound for their debt myself and a good day's business,too. Friends will stump down, sir, trust me.'

  'Well, it is some satisfaction for me to know that they will not, andthat Morris and Levison will not get a farthing.'

  'Well, sir,' said the incredulous little functionary, 'when I findMorris and Levison lose two or three thousand pounds by a nob who isnabbed for the first time, I will pay the money myself, that is all Iknow.'

  Here the waiter was obliged to leave Ferdinand, but he proved hisconfidence in that gentleman's fortunes by his continual civility, andin the course of the day brought him a stale newspaper. It seemed toFerdinand that the day would never close. The waiter pestered him aboutdinner, eulogising the cook, and assuring him that his master was famousfor champagne. Although he had no appetite, Ferdinand ordered dinner inorder to ensure the occurrence of one incident. The champagne made himdrowsy; he was shown to his room; and for a while he forgot his cares insleep.