Meanwhile, Cordwell Firebras, — engaged hand to hand with the officer, who, having vainly summoned him to surrender, attacked him in person, — had reached the platform. Seeing escape impossible, Firebras, while defending himself against the officer, called to Randulph, whom he descried below, and held out the packet to him. The latter ordered Jacob to keep the skiff steady, and to bring it as near the combatants as possible.
While Jacob obeyed the injunction, a successful thrust from Firebras stretched his adversary upon the platform, but the next moment he received his own death wound from Long Tom, who stepped forward, as his officer fell, and discharged his musket into his breast.
With a dying effort, Firebras stretched his hand over the rail, and consigning the packet to Randulph, fell backwards into the water.
Possessed of the packet, Randulph turned to the aid of Sir Bulkeley Price, and pulling him into the skiff, Jacob instantly pushed off. Assisted by the stream, which ran very strong, they soon got under the sides of the vessel near the mill, and were sheltered from the fire of the soldiery.
Meanwhile, the conflagration raged fast and furiously, and before the skiff containing the fugitives had got half way to Westminster bridge, a tremendous explosion took place, scattering the blazing fragments of the old mill far and wide into the river.
* * *
CHAPTER XVII.
In Which the Wedding-Day Is Fixed.
About three months after the events detailed in the preceding chapter, a family party were assembled in the dining-room of the house at Lambeth, consisting of Abel Trussell, Mrs. Crew, and Hilda. The latter was dressed in deep mourning, and had a shade of melancholy on her countenance, which rather added to her beauty than detracted from it. She sat near Abel Beechcroft, who regarded her with paternal affection, and whose features, having lost their somewhat cynical and saturnine cast, now expressed only benevolence and kindliness. Always placid and composed, Mrs. Crew looked more cheerful than before; Trussell, who, indeed, was rarely out of humour, appeared in tip-top spirits. In short, a happier party never met together. Nor did their attendant, Mr. Jukes, appear a whit less contented.
“Well, my dear niece,” said Trussell,— “for so I shall make bold to call you, in anticipation of our intended relationship — we shall certainly have Randulph back to-day.”
“This morning, do you think?” she rejoined.
“Why, no, possibly not till evening,” said Trussell. “Ah, sir,” he added, to Abel, “how different our nephew’s present journey from Cheshire is from the last. Then he came with very little money in his pocket, and very little prospect of getting any — deprived of his inheritance, and with no apparent prospect of its restitution. Now he arrives a wealthy man, with a prospect of such happiness before him as a king might envy!”
“It’s a story to write in a book,” said Mr. Jukes, rubbing his eyes.
“I fear the two months during which Randulph has been absent, must have passed very slowly over your head, Hilda?” observed Abel. “I may ask you the question now that we shall so soon have him with us again.”
“To say that I have not felt his absence, and wished for his return, would not be to speak the truth, sir,” she replied; “but it would be equally untrue to say that I have not been happier during the period you mention than I ever was in my life. How, indeed, could it be otherwise, when I have experienced so much attention from you, from your brother, and from Mrs. Crew?”
“I’m sure there is nothing we wouldn’t do to make you happy,” said Mrs. Crew.
“Nothing!” cried Mr. Jukes, emphatically “nothing we wouldn’t do.”
“I beg pardon, Mr. Jukes,” said Hilda; “I ought to have included you in the list of my kind friends.”
“You make me proud to hear you say so,” replied Mr. Jukes. “I told my master, long before things came to this, that nothing would make me so happy as to see you in this house, married to Mr. Randulph. And I told him also that we would have one of the upper rooms turned into a nursery, and that he should sit in an easy chair, nursing a little Randulph, or a little Abel, as the case may be, with a Miss Hilda, or a Miss Sophia playing beside him. Didn’t I tell you that, sir?”
“You did — you did,” replied Abel, hastily.
“Get me some usquebaugh, Mr. Jukes,” said Trussell, who almost choked himself with laughing at the butler’s speech, while Hilda was covered with blushes, and Mrs. Crew looked a little confused.
The order was promptly obeyed, and Trussell, as he raised the glass to his lips, said— “May I live to see the realization of Mr. Jukes’s wish!”
“I must drink that toast myself,” said the butler, retiring to the sideboard.
“By-the-bye, Hilda,” said Trussell, laughing, “I haven’t told you what has become of your disconsolate suitor, Beau Villiers, who wouldn’t be content till you had refused him half-a-dozen times? Disappointed in his hope of obtaining you, or rather your fortune, he laid siege to Lady Spinke, and has eloped with her to Paris.”
“A proper consummation to his folly,” observed Abel.
“But the best is to come,” pursued Trussell. “Sir Singleton’s marriage, as you know, took place at the Fleet, and not having the fear of courts of law before his eyes, nor thinking it necessary to get a divorce, the old beau is actually going to marry again. And this time his choice has fallen upon — whom do you think? — Lady Brabazon!”
“I’m glad that odious woman’s got rid of, in any way,” said Mrs. Crew. “I never could endure her.”
“By-the-bye, Mr. Jukes,” said Trussell, laughing to himself at his sister’s vivacity; “I never heard what become of your nephew, Mr. Cripps?”
“I’m happy to say he’s a reformed character, sir,” replied the butler. “He was mixed up in some way or other, I don’t know how, — with that Jacobite disturbance, where Mr. Cordwell Firebras met his death, and received a very awkward wound, which put him in danger of his life. Since then, he has become quite an altered person, and neither drinks, games, nor dresses, as he used to do. He’s at present living with a very quiet family in Abingdon street; and, as far as I can learn, is doing his duty.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Abel; “and since that is the case, I’ll take care you sha’n’t lose the twenty guineas you were foolish enough to lend him.” Mr. Jukes made a suitable acknowledgment.
The breakfast things were taken away, but the party were still chatting over the table, when the door suddenly opened, and Randulph rushed into the room. He was in his travelling attire, and though somewhat embrowned, looked handsomer, Hilda thought, than she had ever seen him — except on the occasion of his first visit to her father’s house. He was followed by Jacob Post, who had attended him in his journey, and who shook hands heartily with Mr. Jukes.
Hilda who had risen at Randolph’s approach, was instantly locked in his embrace. The tears started to Abel’s eyes as he regarded the meeting of the young couple; Mrs. Crew gazed at them with fond delight; but Trussell, who was not quite so much interested in lovers’ meetings, availed himself of the opportunity of taking a pinch of snuff.
“Well, you’re looking vastly well, Randulph, I must say,” observed Trussell, after his nephew’s affectionate greetings had gone all round. “I don’t think the country has disagreed with you.”
“It is the quiet life he has led there, brother, and the early hours that he has kept, that have agreed with him,” observed Abel.
“You are right, uncle,” replied Randulph, “and I am now quite convinced, from the experiment I have just made, that a quiet life is more to my taste than a gay one.”
“I am glad to hear you say so!” cried Abel.
Trussell made no remark, but he slightly shrugged his shoulders, and took an inordinate pinch of snuff.
“You don’t believe me, I see, uncle,” said Randulph, laughing. “But I assure you it is the case. And I have no doubt I shall bring you to my opinion when I get you down to Cheshire.”
“When you do get me
there, I’ve no doubt you will,” replied Trussell, somewhat drily. “Town agrees with me perfectly. Every one to his taste.”
“And your tenants were glad to see you, Randulph, I am sure,” said his mother, taking his hand.
“They were indeed,” replied Randulph; “and I never experienced greater gratification than when they were collected in the old hall, and I told them I was once more their landlord. Their shouts made the rafters ring again. They all wish to see their mistress that is to be,” he continued, gazing tenderly at Hilda.
“And I see not why their satisfaction should be delayed,” replied Abel. “The considerations of decorum that apply to others do not apply to Hilda. So much of her life has passed in self-sacrifice and trouble, that the sooner she is recompensed for it the better.”
“The best thing we can do is to leave the young people together to fix the day,” said Trussell. “Make it as early as you can, Randulph; and notwithstanding the objections I raised to the country just now, I shall be happy to spend a month or two with you at Crew Hall, whenever you choose to invite me.”
“The house will always be your home, my dear uncle,” said Randulph. “No one will be more welcome.”
Acting upon Trussell’s hint, the others then withdrew. Though Randulph had a thousand things to say to Hilda, he could recollect none of them; but perhaps the expressions of rapturous devotion he was able to utter, were fully as agreeable to his listener’s ear as any other course he might have adopted.
Thus more than half an hour passed away so swiftly, so delightfully, that the lovers did not know they had been alone many minutes, when they were interrupted by a discreet tap at the door.
“Come in,” said Randulph.
“Beg pardon,” said Mr. Jukes, cautiously obeying the summons; “but Miss Thomasine Deacle is without, and wishes to speak to Miss Scarve.”
“With me?” exclaimed Hilda, in surprise.
“I told her you were engaged with Mr. Randulph — particularly engaged,” replied the butler; “but she said she didn’t mind that. She wants to see you on a matter material to her happiness.”
“She is a strange creature,” said Hilda, smiling at the recollection of her former interview with her. “I dare say she wants to tell me something about Peter Pokerich.”
“Very likely,” said the butler, “for he is with her.”
“Well, let them come in,” replied Hilda.
And the next moment, the fair Thomasine and the little barber were ushered into the room.
“I trust you will excuse this intrusion, Miss Scarve,” said the fair Thomasine, who was a little disposed to be in heroics— “but I have a favor to beg of you. You are aware of the admiration I have always entertained for you — of the devotion I have felt towards you—”
“I am quite sensible of both,” interrupted Hilda, smiling— “but the favor?”
“After all, my heart fails me — I cannot ask it,” said the fair Thomasine, turning away in confusion.
“I’ll tell you what it is,” interposed Peter; “she declares she’ll never have me, unless we’re married on the same day as you and Mr. Randulph.”
“On the same day, and at the same church,” said the fair Thomasine, exhibiting a face like a blush rose. “The favor I wished to ask you was your consent to this arrangement. Peter met Mr. Randulph and Jacob crossing Westminster Bridge on their return from Cheshire this morning, and we thought we had better lose no time in making the request.”
“My consent was scarcely required,” said Hilda; “but as soon as the day is fixed, you shall know it.”
“I hope it will be soon!” cried Peter; “I’m tired of being put off so often.”
“It would ill become me to exhibit any impatience,” said the fair Thomasine, casting down her eyes.
“I sympathise with their situation, Hilda,” said Randulph, taking her hand. “Can we not give them an answer now? To-day is Thursday. Let it be Monday next.”
“Oh, yes, Monday, by all means!” cried Peter, jumping into the air, and clapping his hands.
“I dare not urge Miss Scarve to greater expedition,” said the fair Thomasine, still looking down; “but—”
“Your answer,” cried Peter, throwing himself on his knees before Hilda.
“Yes, your answer!” cried the fair Thomasine, kneeling down beside Peter.
“You cannot resist these entreaties, Hilda?” said Randulph, smiling.
“I cannot, indeed,” she replied. “Be it as you propose.”
“Our marriage will take place on Monday,” said Randulph, “and we shall be united at the parish church at Lambeth.”
“How charming!” cried Peter, rising, and assisting the fair Thomasine to her feet. “We can go there in a boat — won’t that be delightful?
“I shall never forget this obligation, Miss Scarve,” said the fair Thomasine, taking Hilda’s hand, and pressing it to her lips; “and may the day you have fixed be productive of happiness to both of us! We deserve to be rewarded for the troubles we have experienced.”
And dropping a low courtesy to Randulph, she took her departure with Peter, who skipped out of the room, scarcely able to contain himself for joy.
* * *
CHAPTER XVIII.
Detailing an Event Which May Possibly Have Been Anticipated from the Preceding Chapter.
Hurrying over the intervening period as rapidly as the lovers themselves would have desired to hurry it over, we shall proceed at once to the wished-for day.
A little before nine o’clock on this eventful morning, Randulph, who had taken up his quarters with Sir Bulkeley Price in Saint James’s Square, entered the breakfast room arrayed in his bridal attire, which had been prepared for him by the skilful hands of Desmartins. He found Sir Bulkeley Price and Sir Norfolk Salusbury at the table — the latter having come up from Wales, whither he had retired to recruit himself after his wound, expressly to attend the ceremony. After receiving their congratulations, Randulph sat down with them, but as he could only swallow a cup of chocolate, he underwent much rallying on his want of appetite.
Breakfast over, the party drove to Whitehall Stairs, where a six-oared barge was in readiness to convey them across the river. Jacob Post was appointed coxswain of this barge, and he wore a waterman’s coat of scarlet cloth, and a velvet jockey-shaped cap of the same colour. The six rowers were attired in the same livery, and presented a very gay appearance.
The morning was bright and beautiful, and everything seemed to Randulph to participate in his happiness. Each boat that passed them, seeing the purpose on which they were bent, cheered them cordially, and Jacob, who was greatly elated, returned their greetings lustily.
As they passed through Westminster Bridge, and shaped their rapid course to Lambeth, they passed a boat containing a couple in bridal attire, and rowed by watermen with favours in their caps. These were Mr. Rathbone and Mrs. Nettleship, who, having made a composition with their creditors, had come to the conclusion that the best thing they could do would be to fulfil their original agreement; and having heard that Randulph and Hilda were to be united at Lambeth, they determined, like Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine, to be married at the same time, and at the same church. The boats cheered each other as they passed.
Shortly after this, they came up with a four-oared cutter, in which was a still more gaily dressed bridal party, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Deacle, the fair Thomasine and Peter Pokerich. The sunny tresses, bright eyes, and dimpling cheeks of the bride, attracted Sir Bulkeley’s admiration; and he called out to Peter that he ought to consider himself a very happy man, — to which the little barber replied “that he was the happiest man in the world, — Mr. Crew excepted.”
Another cheering passed between the rowers, and Randulph’s barge swept over the sparkling waters to the stairs near Lambeth Palace, where he and his companions disembarked.
As Abel Beechcroft was extremely well known, and highly respected in the neighbourhood, great preparations were made to lend
eclat to his nephew’s wedding. A band of music was stationed on a lighter moored near the stairs; and the lighter itself was hung all over with flags and streamers. The band was playing, the bells ringing, and as Randulph leapt ashore, a loud shout from the crowd collected to see him land, welcomed him, while many flattering comments, in no very low key, were made upon his handsome appearance by the female part of the assemblage. In passing towards his uncle’s residence, Randulph noticed with interest a troop of pretty little girls with wreaths round their heads, and baskets of flowers in their hands, standing in the path leading to the church.
The party were admitted by Mr. Jukes, whose portly figure was well displayed in an expansive waistcoat, a brown coat, spick and span new for the occasion, and a well-powdered bob-wig. — The worthy butler gave Randulph a hearty welcome, and wished him many years of happiness, and having ushered him and the others into the parlour, returned to the hall to Jacob, to give him wedding favours for himself and the watermen, which the other hastened to distribute.
The meeting between the young bride and bridegroom was full of agitated delight. Abel looked perfectly happy, but thoughtful, as did Mrs. Crew, whose emotion found relief in an occasional sigh — not the sigh of misgiving, but the relief of a joy-oppressed heart. Trussell was, as usual, in very high spirits. He shook Randulph heartily by the hand, wished him all sorts of happiness, and then cordially greeted the Welsh baronets. Besides Mrs. Clinton, there was another young lady present, the daughter of an old friend of Mrs. Crew’s, a Miss Wilbraham who acted as bridesmaid to Hilda.
Soon afterwards, all being declared in readiness, the bride prepared to set forth under the care of Abel Beechcroft, who, before they quitted the house, in an earnest tone, invoked a blessing on her head, and on that of his nephew; — and both felt that the blessing of so good a man would not be thrown away.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 328