Lost Sir Massingberd: A Romance of Real Life. v. 2/2

by James Payn

  CHAPTER IX.

  AMONG FRIENDS.

  We found Marmaduke Heath in a less morbid state of mind than we hadexpected. The die having been cast--the time given him by SirMassingberd for his return and so-called reconciliation with that worthyhaving already elapsed without any action on the part of his uncle, theeffect of that "Captain Swing"-like epistle was slowly wearing off. Noone ever revived the matter in his presence, nor, as we have seen, washe permitted even to write upon the subject. Still, he knew that I hadbeen lately communicated with concerning it--for at first the blow hadfallen on its object with such force and fulness that those about himhad really not liked to let me know the extent of the mischief I mighthave committed--and he imagined that I had now come up in mere friendlysorrow to cheer and comfort him. As he came out into the dark street onthat December evening to give me loving welcome, fresh from that awfulprocession-scene, I positively looked with terror to left and right,lest some cloaked figure, whom yet we both should recognize, might reachforth an iron arm, and tear him away. It was I who was morbid andunstrung, and not my friend; he strove, I knew, to appear to the bestadvantage, in good humour and high spirits, in order that I might haveless to reproach myself with.

  "My dear old Peter" cried he, laughing, "how glad I am to see yourhonest face. Have you brought me any verbal message from my charminguncle, or are you only his deputy-postman? _How_ is he--_how_ is he?"

  I could see, in spite of his light way, that he was curious to have thisinterrogation answered; but what was I to say? "I don't know whetherhe's well or ill," returned I, carelessly, as I stepped into the hall."But how is Mr. Gerard and Miss----"

  "Here is 'Miss,'" returned a sweet voice, blithe as a bird's; "she isexcellently well, Peter, thank you. But what a white face _you_ havegot! If that is the gift of country air there is certainly no such causefor regretting our absence from the Dovecot, about which Marmaduke isalways so solicitous."

  "'Marmaduke' to his face, now!" thought I. I could not prevent my heartfrom sinking a little, in spite of the lifebuoy of friendship. But Ianswered gallantly, "There is no air that can wither _your_ roses, MissLucy, for the summer is never over where you are."

  "Bravo, Peter," quoth Mr. Gerard, set in the warm glow of thedining-room, which gleamed forth from the open door behind him. "If heis so complimentary in a thorough draught, what a mirror of courtesywill he be when he gets thawed! Come in, my dear Mr. Long; come in tothe warm. No east wind ever brought people more good, than this whichbrings you two to us. Lucy...--Ah, that's right; she has gone to orderthe dinner to be rechauffed. Now, do you travellers answer no man oneword, but go make yourselves comfortable--you have your old rooms, ofcourse--and then come down at once to food and fire. Marmaduke, my dearboy, you keep me company here, please; otherwise, you will delay Peter,with your gossip, I know."

  That was a sentence with a purpose in it. If, as Mr. Gerard at onceguessed, we had come up to town on business connected with SirMassingberd, it might be advisable that I should not be interrogated byMarmaduke privately. For my part, I was greatly relieved by it, since Ihad no desire to be the person to communicate bad tidings--for such Iknew he would consider them--to my friend a second time. My spirits hadrisen somewhat with the warmth of our reception; it is not a little tohave honest friends, and welcome unmistakable in hand and voice and eye.There is many a man who goes smoothly through the world by help of thesealone, and only at times sighs for the love that but one could havegiven him, and which has been bestowed by her elsewhere. When I gotdown into the dining-room, a minute or two before my tutor, I wasreceived by quite a chorus of kind voices--a very tumult of hospitablegreeting.

  "Warm your toes, Peter--warm your toes; you shall have a glass of sherryworth drinking directly," cried Mr. Gerard, all in a breath.

  "Yes, Peter, you and I will have a glass together," exclaimed Marmaduke,eagerly.

  "Stop for 'the particular'--stop for the green seal: it will be here ina minute," entreated the host.

  "No, no," returned Marmaduke; "I must drink his health at once. Cowslipwine, if I drank it with Peter, would be better to me thanJohannisberg."

  He had his hand upon her arm, as I entered the room; I was sure of that,although she had gently but swiftly withdrawn it from his touch, as thedoor opened. How happy she looked; how passing fair with that faintflush! How handsome and bright-faced was dear Marmaduke! How placidlycontent, like one who draws his happiness from that of others, was thecountenance of Harvey Gerard! A picture of domestic pleasure and contentindeed, and with three noble figures in it. It was impossible to doubtthat two lovers stood before me, and a father who had found aprospective son-in-law, whom he could love as a son. This newrelationship had been only established within a very few days, and uponthat account, perhaps, it was the more patent. My mischance in thematter of Sir Massingberd's letter, had been the immediate cause ofMarmaduke's declaration. She had compassionated him in his troubles, andhe had told her in what alone his hope of comfort lay. He had not beensanguine of securing her--who could have been, with such a pricelessprize in view?--for not only had he a diffidence in his own powers ofpleasing, great and winning as they were, beyond those of any man I everknew, but he feared to find an obstacle to his wishes in her father.

  "Dear Mr. Gerard," he had said, with his usual frankness, "I have wonyour daughter's heart, and love her better than all the world. Still, itis you alone who have her hand to dispose of. She loves and respects youas never yet was father loved and respected, and this only makes herdearer to me. I feel as much bound in this matter by your decision--Oh,sir, God grant your heart may turn towards me--as she does herself. Idare not tell you what I think of you to your face. The very greatnessof my respect for you makes me fear your rejection of _me_. I am, in onerespect at least, a weak and morbid man, while your mind is vigorousand strong upon all points. You are in armour of proof from head toheel; whereas, there is a joint in my harness open to every blow. I amafraid, sir, that you despise me."

  "I do not despise you, Marmaduke," Mr. Gerard had replied, in his kindgrave voice.

  "Ah, sir, I know what you would say," returned the young man withvehemence; "you pity me, and pity and contempt are twin-sisters.Besides, I am a Heath; you do not wish that blood of yours should mixwith that of an evil and accursed race; and, moreover--though that, witha man like you, has, I know, but little weight--I may live and die apauper."

  "My dear Marmaduke," Mr. Gerard had answered, "I cannot conceal from youthat there are grave objections to your marriage with my daughter, andmore especially at present. We need not revert to the last matter youhave spoken of, for wealth is not what I should seek for in myson-in-law; even if it were, your alliance would reasonably promise it,and might be sought by many on that account. As for your being a Heath,that you cannot help; and, with respect to 'blood,' there is morerubbish spoken upon that subject by otherwise sensible folk than uponall others put together. Bad example and evil training are sufficient toaccount for the bad courses of any family without impeaching theircirculating fluids. If your uncle had not happened to be likewise yourguardian, in you, my dear young friend, I frankly tell you, I should seeno fault, or rather no misfortune; but, since he has unhappily had theopportunity of weakening and intimidating----"

  "Sir, sir, pray spare me," broke in Marmaduke, passionately; "are yougoing to say that I am a coward?"

  "Heaven forbid, my boy," replied Mr. Gerard, earnestly; "you are asbrave as I am, I do not doubt. If I thought you to be what you suggest,I would not parley with you about my darling daughter for one moment. Iwould say 'No' at once. My Lucy wooed by a poltroon!--no, that is notpossible. I do not say 'No' to _you_, Marmaduke."

  "Oh, thank you, thank you, sir," exclaimed the young man, with emotion;then added solemnly, "and I thank God."

  "What I do say, however," returned Mr. Gerard, "is 'Wait.' While youruncle lives, I cannot, under existing circumstances, permit you to be myLucy's husband. At present, you are only boy and girl, and can wellafford to be patient.
"

  "And when we do marry," returned Marmaduke, gratefully, "you shall notlose your daughter, sir, but rather gain a son. My home, if I ever haveone, shall be yours also. Pray, believe me when I say that you are mysecond father, for you have given me a new life."

  It really seemed so to him who looked at the sparkling eyes andheightened colour of the speaker, and listened to his tones, so richwith hope and love.

  "There is certainly no one so civil as a would-be son-in-law," repliedMr. Gerard, good-naturedly. "I wonder that old gentlemen in my positionever permit them to marry at all."

  And thus it had been settled--as I saw that it had been--only a verylittle while before our arrival in Harley Street.

  * * * * *

  "And what brings you good people up to town?" asked Mr. Gerard gaily,"without sending a line in advance, which, even in mercy to thehousekeeper, you would surely have done, had not the business beenurgent? As to your travelling with four horses," added our host slily,"I know so well the pride and ostentation of the clergy that I am notthe least astonished at your doing _that_, Mr. Rector."

  "Truly, sir, now that I find all safe and well," replied my tutor, "Ibegin to think we might have travelled in a less magnificent way; butthe fact is, that I felt foolishly apprehensive and curious to tell youour tidings. Sir Massingberd Heath has been Lost since Thursdayfortnight, November sixteenth."

  "Lost!" exclaimed Mr. Gerard, in amazement.

  "Lost!" echoed Lucy, compassionately.

  "Lost!" murmured Marmaduke, turning deadly pale. "That is terrible,indeed."

  "Yes, poor wretched man," said Lucy, quickly; "terrible to think thatsome judgment may have overtaken him in the midst of hiswickedness--unrepentant, revengeful, cruel."

  "That is truly what should move us most, Miss Gerard," observed mytutor; "it is but too probable that he has been suddenly cut off, andthat by violence." Then he narrated all that had happened at Fairburnsince the night of Sir Massingberd's disappearance, uninterrupted saveonce, when Mr. Gerard left the room for a few minutes, and returned withanother bottle of "the particular," which, it seemed, he would not evensuffer the butler to handle. Marmaduke sat silent and awe-struck,drinking in every word, and now and then, when a sort of shudder passedover him, I saw a little hand creep forth and slide into his, when hewould smile faintly, but not take his eyes off Mr. Long--no, not evento reply to hers.

  "I think," added my tutor, when the narrative was quite concluded, "thatunder these circumstances I was justified in coming up to town, Mr.Gerard, since it is just possible that Sir Massingberd may, may----"

  "That he may not be dead," interrupted our host, gravely; "there is, ofcourse, that chance, and we must set to work at once to settle thequestion."

  There was a violent ringing at the front-door bell. Mr. Long started upwith a "What's that?" Marmaduke's very lips grew white, and trembled.For my part, I confess I congratulated myself that I was on that side ofthe table which was furthest from any person who might enter the room.Lucy alone maintained a calm demeanour, and looked towards her fatherconfidently.

  "That is Mr. Clint, I have no doubt," observed Mr. Gerard, quietly. "Isent word to him an hour ago to come directly, and, if possible, tobring Townshend with him. Whether Sir Massingberd be alive or not, weshall soon discover, for the great Bow Street runner will be certain tofind either his body or his bones."