The major, meanwhile, was more than usually silent as to the nature of his occupations, but gave her to understand every morning when they separated after breakfast, that she would not see him again till they met at dinner; and in like manner, when the company left the dinner-table, he just found time to say, “Don’t expect me till you see me, my dear,” and no more. Night and morning, indeed, when in the retirement of their own apartment, the wife asked, and the husband answered, many questions. But though she questioned “with the boldness of a wife,” and he answered with even more than the usual courtesy of a husband, the chief information given and received, consisted in the fact that he had as yet no intelligence to communicate sufficiently definite to make it worth while to talk about it.
“Then I suppose, major,” she replied, “we may all amuse ourselves as we like, till you give orders for right-about wheel?”
“Exactly so, my charming wife,” he answered, gaily. “I am just spying here, and peeping there, and listening everywhere, to find out if anything is to be made of these New Yorkers. If there is, I’ll let you know, my dear; and maybe we’ll draw up here, and take breath a little before we go any further. If not, we’ll be off in double quick time, you may depend upon it.”
“That is just as it should be, Donny,” said she.
“I trust everything most implicitly to you,” said he, “and feel no anxiety whatever, my dear, in leaving you entirely to yourself.”
“Just tell me, Donny, will you,” she rejoined, “how much do you pay a head for us here, by the week?”
“What makes you ask, my dear? Do you want to be economical, and go somewhere else in the hope of finding it cheaper?” said he.
“No, indeed, major,” she replied, briskly; “I have no such stingy notions in my head, I promise you. Why should I? I am sure that altogether we have done most uncommonly well since we came here; and you know of old, that I am one of those who think money, like everything else, is just worth as much as it will bring. So don’t fancy that I want to creep into a hole, and get half starved and half poisoned, in order to save a few dollars, while my purse is as full as it is just at present. That’s not what I am thinking of; but I’ll tell you what it is. As long as you go on engaged for everlasting, out of the house, I see no good reason why Patty and I should stay in it, if we can amuse ourselves better elsewhere; and my belief is, that we might go to the springs at Saratoga just as cheap as staying here. As far as I am concerned, I am quite sure there’s nothing to be got in the way of profit out of any of the people I am likely to make acquaintance with here, and not much, between you and I, in the way of amusement. So if you’ll just shovel out as many dollars as would clear Patty, Tornorino, and me, for a fortnight in this house, we’ll just bundle ourselves off to the Springs, Donny, and if we find anything going on there in your way, my dear, I’ll take care to write and let you know.”
“And a very good plan to, my Barnaby,” replied the major, nodding his head approvingly. “I can’t quite tell yet whether I shall screw anything, in any way, out of the queer chaps here. At any rate it won’t be in the old way if I do, and so you may take Tornorino with you and welcome.”
“That’s all right then,” replied my heroine, “for Madame Patty would never have been contented without him. But why, I should like to know,” she added, with a coaxing sort of smile, “are you grown so monstrously mysterious, my dear? Whether you have any thoughts of standing for president, or whether you expect that you’ll talk them into making you commander-in-chief of their army, if they happen to have one, I have no more notion than the child unborn. You never used to be so very, very cautious before, Donny.”
“Upon my soul it is no caution, wife, but wholly and solely because I have nothing to tell you, that I tell you nothing. These chaps are the queerest folks you ever saw in your life, my Barnaby, there is no making out what they want to be at. From the moment I gave them to understand (which I did in a very easy off-hand sort of way) that I had ready money with me, they have been hanging about me like wasps round a honey-comb, and it is as clear as the sun at noonday that they both hope and expect to get something out of me; but I shall be surprised if they do. Shan’t you, my dear?”
“I think I should be a little disappointed, Donny,” replied his wife, with a pretty complimentary bow. “But it seems to me a sad loss of time, my dear, to stay here, just taking care of yourself, and nothing more. I confess,” she added, “that I don’t see, from what you now say, any very good reason why we should not all start together. There is always something going on, you know, at watering places, and whether it is little or much, it must be better than nothing, or than just watching to see which way these land sharks mean to set about grabbing at you, merely for the pleasure of disappointing them.”
“Why yes, Mrs. Allen Barnaby, if that were quite all, I should be perfectly of your opinion,” replied the major. “But I cannot help thinking that if they once fairly set about diddling me, as we call it, I should somehow or other be able to turn the tables on them.”
“Well,” she returned, “I dare say you know best, major, and therefore I most certainly shall not think of arguing the point with you. What say you then, my dear, to our giving notice to-day that we three mean to be gone when the current week is up?”
“Why, my dear,” he replied, “I say that I think it is the best thing you can do.”
The matter being thus amicably settled between them, the projected plan was put into execution without delay or difficulty of any kind, and Mrs. Allen Barnaby, with her daughter and son-inlaw, set off for the springs of Saratoga, their European finery being recruited by some of the most striking articles that New York could furnish, and their spirits in that happy state of excitement which arises from the consciousness of having nothing but amusement as an occupation, and nothing but whim as a master.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
AMONG the gentlemen who, on the first day of Major Allen Barnaby’s dining at New York had pressed round him with civilities of all kinds, and offers of commercial aid and assistance in particular, in whatever speculation might attract his attention, there were two who stuck to him very much more closely than the rest. These two gentlemen, Mr. Crop and Mr. Fad, who had been amongst his earliest acquaintance on board the steamboat from Philadelphia, and who had paid a good deal of attention to the abundant baggage of the European travellers, had not only listened with very particular attention indeed to everything that had fallen from the free-spoken major concerning the ready money he had brought out with him, but had even contrived to discover completely to their satisfaction that it had not come in the questionable form of bills of credit, the very name of which is peculiarly disagreeable to American ears, but bona fide in specie, convertible at five minutes’ notice into the dollars upon which their heart doted. The major was fully aware of the peculiar pertinacity of these attractions, and was quite as much awake to the fact of their having some particular object in view in bestowing them, as they could possibly be themselves. But far from experiencing any jealous suspicions concerning their motives, or any feeling of alarm lest any of the much celebrated Yankee tricks should be played off against him, he wished for nothing so much as a fair trial of skill. He knew that it would not be made in the same style, or with the same weapons to which he had hitherto been the most accustomed; but, either from natural generosity of temper, or a noble confidence in his own innate strength, which he knew would render him a match for most men, let them attack him in what manner they would, either from one or both of these considerations, he waited with no small degree of impatience for the opening of the campaign. It will be seen, therefore, that his statement to his wife was in every respect the most candid and sincere possible, and that he really told her nothing, solely because he had nothing to tell. Hitherto he had waited with great patience for some hint of their hopes or wishes, and he was fully determined to wait with equally great patience for some time longer, although it is certain that, either from family attachment, a love of
change, or the pleasant thoughts suggested by the idea of a watering-place, he did not see the gay-looking trio set off without feeling a very considerable inclination to accompany them. Still, however, he went on for three days longer drinking toddy and smoking cigars with Messrs Crop and Fad, without committing himself by any initiative movement, and still the conversation at each sitting began and ended by general declarations on the part of the native gentlemen, that capita], if properly applied by those who know how to make the most of it, might just now be turned to tarnation good account; and by responses on that of the foreigner, that he held the funds he had brought with him quite ready for any investment that promised a profitable return, but that of course he should look for good security.
How long this sort of coquetting might have gone on, had nothing occurred to quicken the movements on either side, it is impossible to say, but the following letter spurred the sides of the majors intent so effectually, as to set the machinery he had to deal with, very speedily in motion: —
“MY DEAR MAJOR, — This place is glorious, and unless you soon tell me of some very brilliant and successful coup de main performed at New York, I snail continue to think, as I do at present, that you are losing your time there most abominably. The springs, they say, were never so frill. It was as much as ever we could do to get two decent bedrooms, and I can’t boast much of their cheapness; however, that would not signify, you know, if you were here, Donny, exerting yourself a little. And that you might do, early and late, I can tell you, for I hear the billiard-balls clicking the very first thing when I open my window in the morning, and to the best of my knowledge and belief, they go on all night. Nor is that by any means all that is going on here, I promise you. We have got as thorough-going a set of card-players as ever I saw, that are always left hard at it in the great saloon, when all the rest of the company go to bed. I can’t, of course, pretend exactly to say what the stakes are, but instead of their nasty silver money, I observe they write on bits of paper and give one another, and I know, of old, that you always count that a good sign. Now does not all this make you long, my dear Donny, to reunite yourself to your beloved family? However, I won’t plague you about coming, if you think it wisest to stay where you are, for I not only give you credit for being as attentive and thoughtful in all matters of this kind as it is possible for a man to be, but I am also modest enough to believe, that you are likely to know best whether you ought to come here, or whether you ought not.
“As to Patty, she grows handsomer and more dashing and elegant in her style and manner every day. It is a thousand pities, to be sure, that she should be tied up to that Lackpenny Tornorino, for I do think she might have had the pick of the market, go where she would. However, what can’t be cured must be endured. Our nice things in the way of dress are a great help to us, I can see that - plainly. Such peeping and peering at our French collars and lace. Tornorino, too, looks exceedingly well, always dressed to the life, I promise you, and I can’t but say, in excuse for Miss Patty, that he looks quite the man of fashion; so that altogether our party is not to be sneezed at, and I must say that, take us one and all, I think we are the most stylish set here. This can’t but be an advantage to you, Donny, if you should take it into your head to come before the season is over. But now I must say good-by, for Patty is storming at me with her beautiful pink feathers all flying about like wild, as she tosses her handsome head, because I am not ready to set off for the public walk. Once more I say, come if you can; and always, dear Donny, here, there, and everywhere, believe me to be your affectionate wife, “MARTHA ALLEN BARNABY.”
This letter immediately decided the major to bring matters to the point between him and his dear friends, Messrs. Crop and Fad, if, indeed, they ever meant to come to the point at all; but at any rate he was determined to lose no more time, and if on that very afternoon he failed to discover a good chance of doing something at New York, to set off as early as possible for Saratoga.
On that very afternoon, therefore, he placed himself, as usual, opposite his new friends, as soon as the dinner-party had dispersed, and stirring his toddy very assiduously, said —
“Well, gentlemen, I think I must be off to the springs after my wife and family, for I really have been making all the inquiries I can about an investment for these few troublesome thousands, that I was foolish enough to bring out with me, and I can hear of I nothing that would at all suit my views. Your enterprises and speculations here are all upon so large a scale, that five or six thousand pounds is like a drop of water in the ocean; so I have made up my mind to think no more about it; and after seeing Niagara and Boston, I mean to turn my face back again towards Europe, and content myself with some little speculation there.”
Mr. Crop and Mr. Fad exchanged glances, and for a moment both of them remained silent; but at length, Mr. Crop, who was by for the livelier genius of the two, suddenly addressed his friend Fad in an easy and natural tone, which gave to his words the appearance of being perfectly unpremeditated.
“That would be a pity, I expect, wouldn’t it. Fad? I, for one, should be right down sorry to see good solid capital marched out of such a country as this, where it would be sure to bring a good ten or fifteen per cent, if it was made the most of.”
“I expect it would,” answered Fad, shaking his head, and looking quite sorry.
“Think again, Major Allen Barnaby, sir,” resumed Crop, “and in the course of to-morrow morning, I calculate I might hit upon something or other quite in the ready money line of business that might suit. I could have done it before, easy enough, I make no doubt, only, truth to speak, I didn’t know you were so much in earnest, or at any rate so much in a hurry.”
“Why, after all, you know, Mr. Crop,” said the major, smiling, “that the disposition of a few thousands is not likely to be an object of very first-rate importance to me, and that as my family all seem exceedingly well pleased at the springs, it is natural enough that I should feel well disposed to join them. However, I have not the least objection to wait over to-morrow, but if you do not in the course of the forenoon favour me with some sort of information a little more definite than any which you have hitherto given me, I really do not think you can blame me for leaving the city, without giving any further thought to the chances of finding a favourable investment here.” —
“No, sir, no blame whatever. In course you will be after doing in that respect whatever may happen to be most agreeable to yourself,” said Mr. Crop, with great civility, and then added, “At present, to be sure, we only seem to be talking for talking’s sake, that I must confess. What say you, Fad, to look in at the Bowery?” he added with an air of indifference.
This proposition seemed to be well relished by Mr. Fad, and the two gentlemen departed together, leaving the major to amuse himself again, as he had repeatedly done before since his arrival, by getting a little picking at chicken-billiards at some of the (comparatively speaking) harmless tables of the commercial city.
“Well, Fad,” said his friend Crop, as arm in arm they sauntered off together, “I really think you must consent to expedite matters a little. I expect, my fine fellow, that it can make no great difference to you whether you are declared bankrupt two months hence or six?”
“I expect not much,” replied Fad, gaily. “The fact is, that I have a notion my lady is dubitating whether she shan’t take a house and give a ball, and I was calculating, you see, that it might be more profitable to give it before than after, on account of clearing off expenses.”
“Why so it might, I expect, a trifle; but nothing comparable to what we should both lose if we should suffer this chap to escape,” replied Mr. Crop; “and as to time, though I would be the last man in the world to vex dear Mrs. Fad by disappointing her about her ball, the whole business will take so little time to get through, that I don’t consider it will signify a cent to her, one way or the other. The smash will be over, and you up again, and as good a man as ever, before the winter season is over.”
“Oh d
ear, yes, I know that perfectly well,” replied Fad; “I am that much used to it, like the most of us that I don’t mind it the value of that,” snapping his fingers, “and, therefore, I’m your man, either for drawing or backing, or anything you like.”
“That will do, then,” replied Crop; “if you are ready, the job is, and I won’t say but what I shall enjoy it, for it’s plain to see that this gay London officer fancies himself a devilish deal sharper than anybody as he is likely to meet with here. The very fact of his bringing his money out here to speculate with proves that fact. Don’t you see, Fad? If he did not think us that soft that he could take some advantage or other of us, d’ye think he would have taken the trouble to steam out here for the sake of investing his thousands? Not he, take my word for it. He thinks to do us, Mr. Fad, and we’ll just see, once and away, if we can’t do him.”
“Oh! but you forget, Crop,” rejoined Fad, with a roguish sort of wink, “you forget the gentleman’s political principles. Don’t you know that he is come out here out of pure love for our constitution?”
“All that’s very well when there’s no money in the case, Mr. Washington Fad,” replied the candid republican; “but the moment a man mixes up any question of money with his politics, I know, and so we do all, I expect, pretty considerably well on this side of the Atlantic, which is the substance and which is the shadow.”
Collected Works of Frances Trollope Page 369