Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour
Page 42
CHAPTER XLII
THE MORNING'S REFLECTIONS
When young Pacey awoke in the morning he had a very bad headache, and histemples throbbed as if the veins would burst their bounds. The first thingthat recalled the actual position of affairs to his mind was feeling underthe pillow for his watch: a fruitless search that ended in recallingsomething of the overnight's proceedings.
Pacey liked a cheap flash, and when elated with wine might be betrayed intoindiscretions that his soberer moments were proof against. Indeed, amongyouths of his own age he was reckoned rather a sharp hand; and it was thevanity of associating with men, and wishing to appear a match for them,that occasionally brought him into trouble. In a general way, he was a verycautious hand.
He now lay tumbling and tossing about in bed, and little by little he laidtogether the outline of the evening's proceedings, beginning with hischallenging Mr. Sponge's chestnut, and ending with the resignation of hiswatch and chain. He thought he was wrong to do anything of the sort. Hedidn't want the horse, not he. What should he do with him? he had one morethan he wanted as it was. Then, paying for him seventy sovereigns! confoundit, it would be very inconvenient--_most_ inconvenient--indeed, hecouldn't do it, so there was an end of it. The facilities of carrying outafter-dinner transactions frequently vanish with the morning's sun. So itwas with Mr. Pacey. Then he began to think how to get out of it. Should hetell Mr. Sponge candidly the state of his finances, and trust to hisgenerosity for letting him off? Was Mr. Sponge a likely man to do it? Hethought he was. But, then, would he blab? He thought he would, and thatwould blow him among those by whom he wished to be thought knowing, a mannot to be done. Altogether he was very much perplexed: seventy pounds was avast of money; and then there was his watch gone, too! a hundred and morealtogether. He must have been drunk to do it--_very_ drunk, he should say;and then he began to think whether he had not better treat it as anafter-dinner frolic, and pretend to forget all about it. That seemedfeasible.
All at once it occurred to Pacey that Mr. Spraggon was the purchaser, andthat he was only a middle-man. His headache forsook him for the moment, andhe felt a new man. It was clearly the case, and bit by bit he recollectedall about it. How Jack had told him to challenge the horse, and he wouldstand to the bargain; how he had whispered him (Pacey) to name him (Jack)arbitrator; and how he had done so, and Jack had made the award. Then hebegan to think that the horse must be a good one, as Jack would not set toohigh a price on him, seeing that he was the purchaser. Then he wonderedthat he had put enough on to induce Sponge to sell him: that rather puzzledhim. He lay a long time tossing, and proing and coning, without being ableto arrive at any satisfactory solution of the matter. At last he rang hisbell, and finding it was eight o'clock he got up, and proceeded to dresshimself; which operation being accomplished, he sought Jack's room, to havea little confidential conversation with him on the subject, and arrangeabout paying Sponge for the horse, without letting out who was thepurchaser.
Jack was snoring, with his great mouth wide open, and his grizzly headenveloped in a white cotton nightcap. The noise of Pacey entering awokehim.
'Well, old boy' growled he, turning over as soon as he saw who it was,'what are you up to?'
'Oh, nothing particular,' replied Mr. Pacey, in a careless sort of tone.
'Then make yourself scarce, or I'll baptize you in a way you won't like,'growled Jack, diving under the bedclothes.
'Oh, why I just wanted to have--have half a dozen words with you about ourlast night's' (ha--hem--haw!) 'handicap, you know--about the horse, youknow.'
'About the w-h-a-w-t?' drawled Jack, as if perfectly ignorant of what Paceywas talking about.
'About the horse, you know--about Mr. Sponge's horse, you know--that yougot me to challenge for you, you know,' stammered Pacey.
'Oh, dash it, the chap's drunk,' growled Jack aloud to himself, adding toPacey, 'you shouldn't get up so soon, man--sleep the drink off.'
Pacey stood nonplussed.
'Don't you remember, Mr. Spraggon,' at last asked he, after watching thetassel of Jack's cap peeping above the bedclothes, 'what took place lastnight, you know? You asked me to get you Mr. Sponge's chestnut, and youknow I did, you know.'
'Hout, lad, disperse!--get out of this!' exclaimed Jack, starting his greatred face above the bedclothes and squinting frightfully at Pacey.
'Well, my dear friend, but you did,' observed Pacey soothingly.
'Nonsense!' roared Jack, again ducking under.
Pacey stood agape.
'Come!' exclaimed Jack, again starting up, 'cut your stick!--be off!--makeyourself scarce!--give your rags a gallop, in short!--don't be afterdisturbin' a gen'leman of fortin's rest in this way.'
'But, my dear Mr. Spraggon,' resumed Pacey, in the same gentle tone, 'yousurely forget what you asked me to do.'
'_I do_,' replied Jack firmly.
'Well, but, my dear Mr. Spraggon, if you'll have the kindness torecollect--to consider--to reflect on what passed, you'll surely remembercommissioning me to challenge Mr. Sponge's horse for you?'
'_Me!_' exclaimed Jack, bouncing up in bed, and sitting squintingfuriously. '_Me!_' repeated he; '_un_possible. How could _I_ do such athing? Why, I handicap'd him, man, for you, man?'
'You told me, for all that,' replied Mr. Pacey, with a jerk of the head.
'Oh, by Jove!' exclaimed Jack, taking his cap by the tassel, and twistingit off his head,' that won't do!--downright impeachment of one's integrity.Oh, by Jingo! that won't do!' motioning as if he was going to bounce out ofbed; 'can't stand that--impeach one's integrity, you know, better takeone's life, you know. Life without honour's nothin', you know. CockPheasant at Weybridge, six o'clock i' the mornin'!'
'Oh, I assure you, I didn't mean anything of that sort,' exclaimed Mr.Pacey, frightened at Jack's vehemence, and the way in which he now foamedat the mouth, and flourished his nightcap about. 'Oh, I assure you, Ididn't mean anything of that sort,' repeated he, 'only I thought p'raps youmightn't recollect all that had passed, p'raps; and if we were to talkmatters quietly over, by putting that and that together, we might assisteach other and--'
'Oh, by Jove!' interrupted Jack, dashing his nightcap against the bedpost,'too late for anything of that sort, sir--_down_right impeachment of one'sintegrity, sir--must be settled another way, sir.'
'But, I assure you, you mistake!' exclaimed Pacey.
'Rot your mistakes!' interrupted Jack; 'there's no mistake in the matter.You've _reg_larly impeached my integrity--blood of the Spraggons won'tstand that. "Death before Dishonour!"' shouted he, at the top of his voice,flourishing his nightcap over his head, and then dashing it on to themiddle of the floor.
'What's the matter?--what's the matter?--what's the matter?' exclaimed Mr.Sponge, rushing through the connecting door. 'What's the matter?' repeatedhe, placing himself between the bed in which Jack still sat upright,squinting his eyes inside out, and where Mr. Pacey stood.
'Oh, Mr. Sponge!' exclaimed Jack, clasping his raised hands inthankfulness, 'I'm so glad you're here!--I'm so thankful you're come! I'vebeen insulted!--oh, goodness, how I've been insulted!' added he, throwinghimself back in the bed, as if thoroughly overcome with his feelings.
'Well, but what's the matter?--what is it all about?' asked Sponge coolly,having a pretty good guess what it was.
'Never was so insulted in my life!' ejaculated Jack, from under thebedclothes.
'Well but what _is_ it?' repeated Sponge, appealing to Pacey, who stood aspale as ashes.
'Oh! nothing,' replied he; 'quite a mistake; Mr. Spraggon misunderstood mealtogether.'
'Mistake! There's no mistake in the matter!' exclaimed Jack, appearingagain on the surface like an otter; 'you gave me the lie as plain as apikestaff.'
'Indeed!' observed Mr. Sponge, drawing in his breath and raising hiseyebrows right up into the roof of his head. 'Indeed!' repeated he.
'No; nothing of the sort, I assure you,' asserted Mr. Pacey.
'Must have satisfaction!' exclaimed Jack,
again diving under thebedclothes.
'Well, but let us hear how matters stand,' said Mr. Sponge coolly, asJack's grizzly head disappeared.
'You'll be my second,' growled Jack, from under the bedclothes.
'Oh! second be hanged,' retorted Sponge. 'You've nothing to fight about;Mr. Pacey says he didn't mean anything, that you misunderstood him, andwhat more can a man want?'
'Just so,' replied Mr. Pacey, 'just so. I assure you I never intended theslightest imputation on Mr. Spraggon.'
'I'm sure not,' replied Mr. Sponge.
'H-u-m-p-h,' grunted Jack from under the bedclothes, like a pig in thestraw. Not showing any disposition to appear on the surface again, Mr.Sponge, after standing a second or two, gave a jerk of his head to Mr.Pacey, and forthwith conducted him into his own room, shutting the doorbetween Mr. Spraggon and him.
Mr. Sponge then inquired into the matter, kindly sympathizing with Mr.Pacey, who he was certain never meant anything disrespectful to Mr.Spraggon, who, Mr. Sponge thought, seemed rather quick at taking offence;though, doubtless, as Mr. Sponge observed, 'a man was perfectly right inbeing tenacious of his integrity,' a position that he illustrated by afamiliar passage from Shakespeare, about stealing a purse and stealingtrash, &c.
Emboldened by his kindness, Mr. Pacey then got Mr. Sponge on to talk aboutthe horse of which he had become the unwilling possessor--the renownedchestnut, Multum-in-Parvo.
Mr. Sponge spoke like a very prudent, conscientious man; said that reallyit was difficult to give an opinion about a horse; that what suited one manmight not suit another--that _he_ considered Multum-in-Parvo a very goodhorse; indeed, that he wouldn't have parted with him if he hadn't more thanhe wanted, and the cream of the season had passed without his meeting withany of those casualties that rendered the retention of an extra horse ortwo desirable. Altogether, he gave Mr. Pacey to understand that he held himto his bargain. Having thanked Sponge for his great kindness, and got anorder on the groom (Mr. Leather) to have the horse out, Mr. Pacey took hisdeparture to the stable, and Sponge having summoned his neighbour Mr.Spraggon from his bed, the two proceeded to a passage window that commandeda view of the stable-yard.
Mr. Pacey presently went swaggering across it, cracking his jockey whipagainst his leg, followed by Mr. Leather, with a saddle on his shoulder anda bridle in his hand.
'He'd better keep his whip quiet,' observed Mr. Sponge, with a shake of hishead, as he watched Pacey's movements.
'The beggar thinks he can ride anything,' observed Jack.
'He'll find his mistake out just now,' replied Sponge.
Presently the stable-door opened, and the horse stepped slowly and quietlyout, looking blooming and bright after his previous day's gallop. Pacey,running his eyes over his clean muscular legs and finely shaped form,thought he hadn't done so far amiss after all. Leather stood at the horse'shead, whistling and soothing him, feeling anything but the easy confidencethat Mr. Pacey exhibited. Putting his whip under his arm, Pacey just walkedup to the horse, and, placing the point of his foot in the stirrup, hoistedhimself on by the mane, without deigning to take hold of the reins. Havingsoused himself into the saddle, he then began feeling the stirrups.
'How are they for length, sir?' asked Leather, with a hitch of his hand tohis forehead.
'They'll do,' replied Pacey, in a tone of indifference, gathering up thereins, and applying his left heel to the horse's side, while he gave him atouch of the whip on the other. The horse gave a wince, and a hitch upbehind; as much as to say, 'If you do that again I'll kick in rightearnest,' and then walked quietly out of the yard.
'I took the fiery edge off him yesterday, I think,' observed Jack, as hewatched the horse's leisurely movements.
'Not so sure of that,' replied Sponge, adding, as he left thepassage-window, 'He'll be trying him in the park; let's go and see him frommy window.'
Accordingly, our friends placed themselves at Sponge's bedroom window, andpresently the clash of a gate announced that Sponge was right in hisspeculation. In another second the horse and rider appeared in sight--thehorse going much at his ease, but Mr. Pacey preparing himself for action.He began working the bridle and kicking his sides, to get him into acanter; an exertion that produced quite a contrary effect, for the animalslackened his pace as Pacey's efforts increased. When, however, he took hiswhip from under his arm, the horse darted right up into the air, andplunging down again, with one convulsive effort shot Mr. Pacey severalyards over his head, knocking his head clean through his hat. The brutethen began to graze, as if nothing particular had happened. This easyindifference, however, did not extend to the neighbourhood; for no soonerwas Mr. Pacey floored than there was such a rush of grooms, and helpers,and footmen, and gardeners--to say nothing of women, from all parts of thegrounds, as must have made it very agreeable to him to know how he had beenwatched. One picked him up--another his hat-crown--a third his whip--afourth his gloves--while Margaret, the housemaid, rushed to the rescue withher private bottle of _sal volatile_--and John, the under-butler, began toextricate him from the new-fashioned neckcloth he had made of his hat.
MR. PACEY TRIES MULTUM-IN-PARVO]
Though our friend was a good deal shaken by the fall, the injury to hisbody was trifling compared to that done to his mind. Being kicked off ahorse was an indignity he had never calculated upon. Moreover, it was donein such a masterly manner as clearly showed it could be repeated atpleasure. In addition to which everybody laughs at a man that is kickedoff. All these considerations rushed to his mind, and made him determinenot to brook the mirth of the guests as well as the servants.
Accordingly he borrowed a hat and started off home, and seeking hisguardian, Major Screw, confided to him the position of affairs. The major,who was a man of the world, forthwith commenced a negotiation with Mr.Sponge, who, after a good deal of haggling, and not until the horse hadshot the major over his head, too, at length, as a great favour, consentedto take fifty pounds to rescind the bargain, accompanying his kindness bytelling the major to advise his ward never to dabble in horseflesh afterdinner; a piece of advice that we also very respectfully tender to ourjuvenile readers.
And Sponge shortly after sent Spraggon a five pound note as his share ofthe transaction.