CHAPTER XLI
A DINNER AND A DEAL
Another grand dinner, on a more extensive scale than its predecessor,marked the day of this glorious run.
'There's goin' to be a great blow-out,' observed Mr. Spraggon to Mr.Sponge, as, crossing his hands and resting them on the crown of his head,he threw himself back in his easy-chair, to recruit after the exertion ofconcocting the description of the run.
'How d'ye know?' asked Sponge.
'Saw by the dinner table as we passed,' replied Jack, adding, 'it reachesnearly to the door.'
'Indeed,' said Sponge, 'I wonder who's coming?'
'Most likely Guano again; indeed, I know he is, for I asked his groom if hewas going home, and he said no; and Lumpleg, you may be sure, and possiblyold Blossomnose, Slapp, and, very likely, young Pacey.'
'Are they chaps with any "go" in them?--shake their elbows, or anything ofthat sort?' asked Sponge, working away as if he had the dice-box in hishand.
'I hardly know,' replied Jack thoughtfully. 'I hardly know. Young Pacey, Ithink, might be made summut on; but his uncle, Major Screw, looks uncommonsharp after him, and he's a minor.'
'Would he _pay_?' asked Sponge, who, keeping as he said, 'no books,' wasnot inclined to do business on 'tick.'
'Don't know,' replied Jack, squinting at half-cock; 'don't know--woulddepend a good deal, I should say, upon how it was done. It's a deucedunhandsome world this. If one wins a trifle of a youngster at cards, let itbe ever so openly done, it's sure to say one's cheated him, just becauseone happens to be a little older, as if age had anything to do with makingthe cards come right.'
'It's an ungenerous world,' observed Sponge, 'and it's no use being abusedfor nothing. What sort of a genius is Pacey? Is he inclined to go thepace?'
'Oh, quite,' replied Jack; 'his great desire is to be thought asportsman.'
'A sportsman or a sporting man?' asked Sponge.
'W-h-o-y! I should say p'raps a sportin' man more than the sportsman,'replied Jack. 'He's a great lumberin' lad, buttons his great stomach into aNewmarket cutaway, and carries a betting-book in his breast pocket.'
'Oh, he's a bettor, is he!' exclaimed Sponge, brightening up.
'He's a raw poult of a chap,' replied Jack; 'just ready for anything--in asmall way, at least--a chap that's always offering two to one inhalf-crowns. He'll have money, though, and can't be far off age. His fatherwas a great spectacle-maker. You have heard of Pacey's spectacles?'
'Can't say as how I have,' replied Sponge, adding, 'they are more in yourline than mine.'
The further consideration of the youth was interrupted by the entrance of afootman with hot water, who announced that dinner would be ready in half anhour.
'Who's there coming?' asked Jack.
'Don't know 'xactly, sir,' replied the man; 'believe much the same party asyesterday, with the addition of Mr. Pacey; Mr. Miller, of Newton; Mr. Fogo,of Bellevue; Mr. Brown, of the Hill; and some others whose names I forget.'
'Is Major Screw coming?' asked Sponge.
'I rayther think not, sir. I think I heard Mr. Plummey, the butler, say hedeclined.'
'So much the better,' growled Jack, throwing off his purple-lapped coat incommencement of his toilette. As the two dressed they discussed the pointhow Pacey might be done.
When our friends got downstairs it was evident there was a great spread.Two red-plushed footmen stood on guard in the entrance, helping thearrivers out of their wraps, while a buzz of conversation sounded throughthe partially opened drawing-room door, as Mr. Plummey stood, handle inhand, to announce the names of the guests. Our friends, having the entree,of course passed in as at home, and mingled with the comers and stayers.Guest after guest quickly followed, almost all making the sameobservation, namely, that it was a fine day for the time of year, and theneach sidled off, rubbing his hands, to the fire. Captain Guano monopolizedabout one-half of it, like a Colossus of Rhodes, with a coat-lap under eacharm. He seemed to think that, being a stayer, he had more right to the firethan the mere diners.
Mr. Puffington moved briskly among the motley throng, now expatiating onthe splendour of the run, now hoping a friend was hungry, asking a thirdafter his wife, and apologizing to a fourth for not having called on hissister. Still his real thoughts were in the kitchen, and he kept countingnoses and looking anxiously at the timepiece. After the door had had alonger rest than usual, Blossomnose at last cast up: 'Now we're all heresurely!' thought he, counting about; 'one, two, three, four, five, six,seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, thirteen, fourteen,myself fifteen--fifteen, fifteen, must be another--sixteen, eight coupleasked. Oh, that Pacey's wanting; always comes late, won't wait'--so saying,or rather thinking, Mr. Puffington rang the bell and ordered dinner. Paceythen cast up.
He was just the sort of swaggering youth that Jack had described; a youthwho thought money would do everything in the world--make him a gentleman,in short. He came rolling into the room, grinning as if he had donesomething fine in being late. He had both his great red hands in his tighttrouser pockets, and drew the right one out to favour his friends with it'all hot.'
'I'm late, I guess,' said he, grinning round at the assembled guests, nowdispersed in the various attitudes of expectant eaters, some standing readyfor a start, some half-sitting on tables and sofa ends, others resigningthemselves complacently to their chairs, abusing Mr. Pacey and all dinnerdelayers.
'I'm late, I guess,' repeated he, as he now got navigated up to his hostand held out his hand.
'Oh, never mind,' replied Puffington, accepting as little of the profferedpaw as he could; 'never mind,' repeated he, adding, as he looked at theFrench clock on the mantelpiece now chiming a quarter past six, 'I dare sayI told you we dined at half-past five.'
'Dare say you did, old boy,' replied Pacey, kicking out his legs, andgiving Puffington what he meant for a friendly poke in the stomach, butwhich in reality nearly knocked his wind out; 'dare say you did, old boy,but so you did last time, if you remember, and deuce a bitedid I get before six; so I thought I'd be quits with youthis--_he--he--he--haw--haw--haw_,' grinning and staring about as if he haddone something very clever.
MR. PACEY]
Pacey was one of those deplorable beings--a country swell. Tomkins andHopkins, the haberdashers of Swillingford, never exhibited an uglyout-of-the-way neckcloth or waistcoat with the words 'patronized by thePrince,' 'very fashionable,' or 'quite the go,' upon them, but heimmediately adorned himself in one. On the present occasion he was attiredin a wide-stretching, lace-tipped, black Joinville, with recumbent gills,showing the heavy amplitude of his enormous jaws, while the extremescooping out of a collarless, flashy-buttoned, chain-daubed, black silkwaistcoat, with broad blue stripes, afforded an uninterrupted view of acostly embroidered shirt, the view extending, indeed, up to a portion ofhis white satin 'forget-me-not' embroidered braces. His coat was abroad-sterned, brass-buttoned blue, with pockets outside, and of course hewore a pair of creaking highly varnished boots. He was apparently, abouttwenty; just about the age when a youth thinks it fine to associate withmen, and an age at which some men are not above taking advantage of ayouth. Perhaps he looked rather older than he was, for he was stiff builtand strong, with an ample crop of whiskers extending from his great reddocken ears round his harvest moon of a face. He was lumpy, and clumsy, andheavy all over. Having now got inducted, he began to stare round the party,and first addressed our worthy friend Mr. Spraggon.
'Well, Sprag, how are you?' asked he.
'Well, Specs' (alluding to his father's trade), 'how are you?' repliedJack, with a growl, to the evident satisfaction of the party, who seemed toregard Pacey as the common enemy.
Fortunately just at the moment Mr. Plummey restored harmony by announcingdinner; and after the usual backing and retiring of mock modesty, Mr.Puffington said he would 'show them the way,' when there was as great arush to get in, to avoid the bugbear of sitting with their backs to thefire, as there had been apparent disposition not to go at all.Notwithstanding
the unfavourable aspect of affairs, Mr. Spraggon placedhimself next Mr. Pacey, who sat a good way down the table, while Mr. Spongeoccupied the post of honour by our host.
In accordance with the usual tactics of these sort of gentlemen, Spraggonand Sponge essayed to be two--if not exactly strangers, at all eventsgentlemen with very little acquaintance. Spraggon took advantage of a deadsilence to call up the table to _Mister_ Sponge to take wine; a complimentthat Sponge acknowledged the accordance of by a very low bow into hisplate, and by-and-by Mister Sponge 'Mistered' Mr. Spraggon to return thecompliment.
'Do you know much of that--that--that--_chap_?' (he would have said snob ifhe'd thought it would be safe) asked Pacey, as Sponge returned to stilllife after the first wine ceremony.
'No,' replied Spraggon, 'nor do I wish.'
'Great snob,' observed Pacey.
'Shocking,' assented Spraggon.
'He's got a good horse or two, though,' observed Pacey; 'I saw them on theroad coming here the other day.' Pacey, like many youngsters, professed tobe a judge of horses, and thought himself rather sharp at a deal.
'They are _good_ horses,' replied Jack, with an emphasis on the good,adding, 'I'd be very glad to have one of them.'
Mr. Spraggon then asked Mr. Pacey to take champagne, as the commencement ofa better understanding.
The wine flowed freely, and the guests, particularly the fresh infusion,did ample justice to it. The guests of the day before, having indulgedsomewhat freely, were more moderate at first, though they seemed wellinclined to do their best after they got their stomachs a little restored.Spraggon could drink any given quantity at any time.
The conversation got brisker and brisker: and before the cloth was drawnthere was a very general clamour, in which all sorts of subjects seemed tobe mixed--each man addressing himself to his immediate neighbour; onetalking of taxes--another of tares--a third, of hunting and the system ofkennel--a fourth, of the corn-laws--old Blossomnose, about tithes--Slapp,about timber and water-jumping--Miller, about Collison's pills; and Guano,about anything that he could get a word edged in about. Great, indeed, wasthe hubbub. Gradually, however, as the evening advanced Pacey and Guanoout-talked the rest, and at length Pacey got the noise pretty well tohimself. When anything definite could be extracted from the mass ofconfusion, he was expatiating on steeple-chasing, hurdle-racing, weightsfor age, ons and offs clever--a sort of mixture of hunting, racing, and'Alken.'
Sponge cocked his ear, and sat on the watch, occasionally hazarding anobservation, while Jack, who was next Pacey, on the left, pretended todecry Sponge's judgement, asking _sotto voce_, with a whiff through hisnose, what such a Cockney as that could know about horses? What betweenJack's encouragement, and the inspiring influence of the bottle, aided byhis own self-sufficiency, Pacey began to look upon Sponge with anything butadmiration; and at last it occurred to him that he would be a very propersubject to, what he called, 'take the shine out of.'
'That isn't a bad-like nag, that chestnut of yours, for the wheeler of acoach, Mr. Sponge,' exclaimed he, at the instigation of Spraggon, to ourfriend, producing, of course, a loud guffaw from the party.
'No, he isn't,' replied Sponge coolly, adding, 'very like one, I shouldsay.'
'Devilish _good_ horse,' growled Jack in Pacey's ear.
'Oh, I dare say,' whispered Pacey, pretending to be scraping up the orangesyrup in his plate, adding, 'I'm only chaffing the beggar.'
'He looks solitary without the coach at his tail,' continued Pacey, lookingup, and again addressing Sponge up the table.
'He does,' affirmed Sponge, amidst the laughter of the party.
Pacey didn't know how to take this; whether as a 'sell' or a compliment tohis own wit. He sat for a few seconds grinning and staring like a fool; atlast after gulping down a bumper of claret, he again fixed his unmeaninggreen eyes upon Sponge, and exclaimed:
'I'll challenge your horse, Mr. Sponge.'
A burst of applause followed the announcement; for it was evident thatamusement was in store.
'You'll w-h-a-w-t?' replied Sponge, staring, and pretending ignorance.
'I'll challenge your horse,' repeated Pacey with confidence, and in a tonethat stopped the lingering murmur of conversation, and fixed the attentionof the company on himself.
'I don't understand you,' replied Sponge, pretending astonishment.
'Lor bless us! why, where have you lived all your life?' asked Pacey.
'Oh, partly in one place, and partly in another,' was the answer.
'I should think so,' replied Pacey, with a look of compassion, adding, inan undertone, 'a good deal with your mother, I should think.'
'If you could get that horse at a moderate figure,' whispered Jack to hisneighbour, and squinting his eyes inside out as he spoke, 'he's well worthhaving.'
'The beggar won't sell him,' muttered Pacey, who was fonder of talkingabout buying horses than of buying them.
'Oh yes, he will,' replied Jack; 'he didn't understand what you meant. Mr.Sponge,' said he, addressing himself slowly and distinctly up the table toour hero--'Mr. Sponge, my friend Mr. Pacey here challenges your chestnut.'
Sponge still stared in well-feigned astonishment.
'It's a custom we have in this country,' continued Jack, looking, as hethought, at Sponge, but, in reality, squinting most frightfully at thesideboard.
'Do you mean he wants to buy him?' asked Sponge.
'Yes,' replied Jack confidently.
'No, I don't,' whispered Pacey, giving Jack a kick under the table. Paceyhad not yet drunk sufficient wine to be rash.
'Yes, yes,' replied Jack tartly, 'you do,' adding, in an undertone, 'leaveit to me, man, and I'll let you in for a good thing. Yes, Mr. Sponge,'continued he, addressing himself to our hero, 'Mr. Pacey fancies thechestnut and challenges him.'
'Why doesn't he ask the price?' replied Sponge, who was always ready for adeal.
'Ah, the price must be left to a third party,' said Jack. 'The principle ofthe thing is this,' continued he, enlisting the aid of his fingers toillustrate his position: 'Mr. Pacey, here,' said he, applying theforefinger of his right hand to the thumb of the left, looking earnestly atSponge, but in reality squinting up at the chandelier--'Mr. Pacey herechallenges your horse Multum-in-somethin'--I forget what you said you callhim--but the nag I rode to-day. Well, then,' continued Jack, 'you'(demonstrating Sponge by pressing his two forefingers together, and holdingthem erect) 'accept the challenge, but can challenge anything Mr. Paceyhas--a horse, dog, gun--anything; and, having fixed on somethin' then athird party' (who Jack represented by cocking up his thumb), 'any one youlike to name, makes the award. Well, having agreed upon that party' (Jackstill cocking up the thumb to represent the arbitrator), 'he says, "Giveme money." The two then put, say half a crown or five shillin's each, intohis hand, to which the arbitrator adds the same sum for himself. That beingdone, the arbitrator says, "Hands in pockets, gen'lemen."' (Jack diving hisright hand up to the hilt in his own.) 'If this be an award, Mr. Pacey'shorse gives Mr. Sponge's horse so much--draw.' (Jack suiting the action tothe word, and laying his fist on the table.) 'If each person's handcontains money, it is an award--it is a deal; and the arbitrator gets thehalf-crowns, or whatever it is, for his trouble; so that, in course, he hasa direct interest in makin' such an award as will lead to a deal. _Now_ doyou understand?' continued Jack, addressing himself earnestly to Sponge.
'I think I do,' replied Sponge who had been at the game pretty often.
'Well, then,' continued Jack, reverting to his original position, 'myfriend, Mr. Pacey here, challenges your chestnut.'
'No, never mind,' muttered Pacey peevishly, in an undertone, with a frownon his face, giving Jack a dig in the ribs with his elbow. 'Never mind,'repeated he; '_I_ don't care about it--_I_ don't want the horse.'
'But _I_ do,' growled Jack, adding, in an undertone also, as he stooped forhis napkin, 'don't spoil sport, man; he's as good a horse as ever stepped;and if you'll challenge him, I'll stand between you and danger.'
/> 'But he may challenge something I don't want to part with,' observed Pacey.
'Then you've nothin' to do,' replied Jack, 'but bring up your hand withoutany money in it.'
'Ah! I forgot,' replied Pacey, who did not like not to appear what hecalled 'fly.' 'Well, then, I challenge your chestnut!' exclaimed he,perking up, and shouting up the table to Sponge.
'Good!' replied our friend. 'I challenge your watch and chain, then,'looking at Pacey's chain-daubed vest.
'Name _me_ arbitrator,' muttered Jack, as he again stooped for his napkin.
'Who shall handicap us? Captain Guano, Mr. Lumpleg, or who?' asked Sponge.
'Suppose we say Spraggon?--he says he rode the horse to-day,' repliedPacey.
'Quite agreeable,' said Sponge.
'Now, Jack!' 'Now, Spraggon!' 'Now, old Solomon!' 'Now, Doctor Wiseman,'resounded from different parts of the table.
Jack looked solemn; and diving both hands into his breeches' pockets, stuckout his legs extensively before him.
'Give me money,' said he pompously. They each handed him half a crown; andJack added a third for himself. 'Mr. Pacey challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnuthorse, and Mr. Sponge challenges Mr. Pacey's gold watch,' observed Jacksententiously.
'Come, old Slowman, go on!' exclaimed Guano, adding, 'have you got nofurther than that?'
'Hurry no man's cattle,' replied Jack tartly, adding, 'you may keep adonkey yourself some day.'
'Mr. Pacey challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse,' repeated Jack. 'How oldis the chestnut, Mr. Sponge?' added he, addressing himself to our friend.
'Upon my word I hardly know,' replied Sponge, 'he's past mark of mouth; butI think a hunter's age has very little to do with his worth.'
'Who-y, that depends,' rejoined Jack, blowing out his cheeks, and lookingas pompous as possible--'that depends a good deal upon how he's been usedin his youth.'
'He's about nine, I should say,' observed Sponge, pretending to have beencalculating, though, in reality, he knew nothing whatever about the horse'sage. 'Say nine, or rising ten, and never did a day's work till he was six.'
'Indeed!' said Jack, with an important bow, adding, 'being easy with themat the beginnin' puts on a deal to the end. Perfect hunter, I s'pose?'
'Why, you can judge of that yourself,' replied Sponge.
'Perfect hunter, _I_ should say,' rejoined Jack, 'and steady at hisfences--don't know that I ever rode a better fencer. Well,' continued he,having apparently pondered all that over in his mind, 'I must trouble youto let me look at your ticker,' said he, turning short round on hisneighbour.
'There,' said Mr. Pacey, producing a fine flash watch from hiswaistcoat-pocket, and holding it to Jack.
'The chain's included in the challenge, mind,' observed Sponge.
'In course,' said Jack; 'it's what the pawnbrokers call a watch with itsappurts.' (Jack had his watch at his uncle's and knew the terms exactly.)
'It's a repeater, mind,' observed Pacey, taking off the chain.
'The chain's heavy,' said Jack, running it up in his hand; 'and here's apistol-key and a beautiful pencil-case, with the Pacey crest and motto,'observed Jack, trying to decipher the latter. 'If it had been without thewords, whatever they are,' said he, giving up the attempt, 'it would havebeen worth more, but the gold's fine, and a new stone can easily be putin.'
He then pulled an old hunting-card out of his pocket, and proceeded to makesundry calculations and estimates in pencil on the back.
'Well, now,' said he, at length, looking up, 'I should say, such a watch asthat and appurts,' holding them up, 'couldn't be bought in a shop undereight-and-twenty pund.'
'It cost five-and-thirty,' observed Mr. Pacey.
'Did it!' rejoined Jack, adding, 'then you were done.'
Jack then proceeded to do a little more arithmetic, during which processMr. Puffington passed the wine and gave as a toast--'Success to thehandicap.'
'Well,' at length said Jack, having apparently struck a balance, 'hands inpocket, gen'lemen. If this is an award, Mr. Pacey's gold watch and appurtsgives Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse seventy golden sovereigns. Show money,'whispered Jack to Pacey, adding, 'I'll stand the shot.'
'Stop!' roared Guano, 'do either of you sport your hand?'
'Yes, I do,' replied Mr. Pacey coolly.
'And I,' said Mr. Sponge.
'Hold hard, then, gen'lemen!' roared Jack, getting excited, and beginningto foam. 'Hold hard, gen'lemen!' repeated he, just as he was in the habitof roaring at the troublesome customers in Lord Scamperdale's field; 'Mr.Pacey and Mr. Sponge both sport their hands.'
'I'll lay a guinea Pacey doesn't hold money,' exclaimed Guano.
'Done!' exclaimed Parson Blossomnose.
'I'll bet it does,' observed Charley Slapp.
'I'll take you,' replied Mr. Miller.
Then the hubbub of betting commenced, and raged with fury for a short time;some betting sovereigns, some half-sovereigns, other half-crowns andshillings, as to whether the hands of one or both held money.
Givers and takers being at length accommodated, perfect silence at lengthreigned, and all eyes turned upon the double fists of the respectivechampions.
Jack having adjusted his great tortoiseshell-rimmed spectacles, and put ona most consequential air, inquired, like a gambling-house keeper, if theywere 'All done'--had all 'made their game?' And 'Yes! yes! yes!' resoundedfrom all quarters.
'Then, gen'lemen,' said Jack, addressing Pacey and Sponge, who still kepttheir closed hands on the table, '_show_!'
At the word, their hands opened, and each held money.
'A deal! a deal! a deal!' resounded through the room, accompanied withclapping of hands, thumping of the table, and dancing of glasses. 'You oweme a guinea,' exclaimed one. 'I want half a sovereign of you,' roaredanother. 'Here's my half-crown,' said a third, handing one across the tableto the fortunate winner. A general settlement took place, in the midst ofwhich the 'watch and appurts' were handed to Mr. Sponge.
'We'll drink Mr. Pacey's health,' said Mr. Puffington, helping himself to abumper, and passing the lately replenished decanters. 'He's done the thinglike a sportsman, and deserves to have luck with his deal. Your goodhealth, Mr. Pacey!' continued he, addressing himself specifically to ourfriend, 'and luck to your horse.'
'Your good health, Mr. Pacey--your good health, Mr. Pacey--your goodhealth, Mr. Pacey,' then followed in the various intonations that mark thefeelings of the speaker towards the toastee, as the bottles passed roundthe table.
The excitement seemed to have given fresh zest to the wine, and those whohad been shirking, or filling on heel-taps, now began filling bumpers,while those who always filled bumpers now took back hands.
There is something about horse-dealing that seems to interest every one.Conversation took a brisk turn, and nothing but the darkness of the nightprevented their having the horse out and trying him. Pacey wanted himbrought into the dining-room, _a la_ Briggs, but Puff wouldn't stand that.The transfer seemed to have invested the animal with supernatural charms,and those who in general cared nothing about horses wanted to have a sightof him.
Toasting having commenced, as usual, it was proceeded with. Sponge's healthfollowed that of Mr. Pacey's, Mr. Puffington availing himself of theopportunity afforded by proposing it, of expressing the gratification itafforded himself and all true sportsmen to see so distinguished a characterin the country; and he concluded by hoping that the diminution of his studwould not interfere with the length of his visit--a toast that was drunkwith great applause.
Mr. Sponge replied by saying, 'That he certainly had not intended partingwith his horse, though one more or less was neither here nor there,especially in these railway times, when a man had nothing to do but take ahalf-guinea's worth of electric wire, and have another horse in less thanno time; but Mr. Pacey having taken a fancy to the horse, he had been moreaccommodating to him than he had to his friend, Mr. Spraggon, if he wouldallow him to call him so (Jack squinted and bowed assent), who,' continuedMr. Sponge, 'had in vain
attempted that morning to get him to put a priceupon him.'
'Very true,' whispered Jack to Pacey, with a feel of the elbow in his ribs,adding, in an undertone, 'the beggar doesn't think I've got him in spite ofhim, though.'
'The horse,' Mr. Sponge continued, 'was an undeniable good 'un, and hewished Mr. Pacey joy of his bargain.'
This venture having been so successful, others attempted similar means,appointing Mr. Spraggon the arbitrator. Captain Guano challenged Mr. Fogo'sphaeton, while Mr. Fogo retaliated upon the captain's chestnut horse; butthe captain did not hold money to the award. Blossomnose challenged Mr.Miller's pig; but the latter could not be induced to claim anything of theworthy rector's for Mr. Spraggon to exercise his appraising talents upon.After an evening of much noise and confusion, the wine-heated party at lastbroke up--the staying company retiring to their couches, and the outlyingones finding their ways home as best they could.
Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Page 41