Sword and Gown Part 4

"Well," the other went on, "they were beating a cover for roe, and the gillie suggested a particular pa.s.s, as the most likely to get a shot at what he called a 'tod.' It was some time before Tom realized the full horror of the proposition: when he did, he shut his eyes like a bull that is going to charge, and literally _fell_ upon the duinhe-wa.s.sel, bellowing savagely. He had no more idea of using his hands than a fractious baby; but it is rather a serious thing when sixteen stone of solid flesh becomes possessed by a devil. Robin Oig was overborne by the onset, and did not forget the effects of it that season."

Tresilyan laughed applaudingly, as he always did when he could understand more than half a story.

"I suppose it's pretty good fun hunting them out there?" he said, going off at score, as usual, on the fresh theme.

"Not bad," Keene replied; "sharp going while it lasts, and a little knack wanted to stick them scientifically. Some say it's more exciting than fox-hunting, but that's childish; I never heard a man a.s.sert it whose liver was not on the wane. It's more dangerous, certainly. A header into the Smite or the Whissendine is nothing to a fall backward into a nullah, with a beaten horse on the top of you."

Molyneux woke up from a reverie. The familiar word stirred his blood like a trumpet, and it flashed up brightly in his pale cheek as he spoke. "Ah! we have had a brus.h.i.+ng gallop or two in the gay old times, before we got married, and invalided, and all that sort of thing. d.i.c.k, I should like to tell you how I got my first spear."

"Of course you would," the major said, resignedly; "it's my fault for starting the subject. Get over it quickly then, please." He did not stop him, though, as he would have done on another occasion--_pour cause_.

"I had been entered some time at boar," Harry began, "before I had any luck at all. Ride as hard as I would at the start, the old hands _would_ creep up at the finish, just in time to get 'first blood.' I gave long prices for my Arabs, too, and didn't spare them. I own I got discouraged, and thought the whole thing a robbery, a delusion, and a snare. One day, however, we had a good deal of deep, marshy ground at first, and a quick gallop afterward, which served my light weight well.

I had it all to myself when he came to bay; so I went in, full of confidence, and gave point, as I thought, well behind the shoulder-blade. I did not calculate on the pace we were going, and I was just three inches too forward. My horse was as young and hot as I was, and though he had no idea of flinching, didn't know how to take care of himself. The instant the brute felt the steel he wheeled short round, and cut The Emperor's forelegs clean from under him. We all came down in a heap; my spear flew yards away; and there I was on my face, clear of my horse, with my right wrist badly sprained. Would you have fancied the position? _I_ didn't. The devil was too blown to begin offensive operations at once, for we had burst him along pretty sharply, but he stood right over me, champing and rasping his tusks, and getting his wind for a good vicious rip. I felt his boiling foam dropping upon me as I lay quite still. I thought that was the best thing to do. All at once hoofs came up at a hard gallop; something swept above me with a rush; there was a short, smothered sound like a tap on a padded door, and then the beast stretched himself slowly out across my legs, and s.h.i.+vered, and died. That man opposite to you had leapt his horse over us both, and, while he was in the air, speared the boar through the spinal marrow. If he had been struck any where else he might still have torn me badly before the life was out of him. Neatly done, wasn't it?"

Harry drank off the remains of his sherry and seltzer rather excitedly, and then sighed. He was thinking how often, in other days, when health and nerves were to the fore, he had drained a stronger and deeper draught to "Snaffle, spur, and spear!"

"A mere stage trick," Keene remarked; "effective, but not in the least dangerous, with a horse under you as steady as poor old Mahmoud. May his rest be glorious! Gilbert killed a tiger that had got loose in the same way, which _was_ something to talk about, for even clean-bred Arabs don't like facing tigers. You made rather better time than usual over that story to-night, Hal; it's practice, I suppose."

Tresilyan's eyes fastened on the speaker, full of a heavy, pertinacious admiration. You might have told him of the n.o.blest action of generosity or self-denial that ever const.i.tuted the stock in trade of a moral hero, and he would have listened patiently, but without one responsive emotion. Bodily prowess and daring he could appreciate. Keene's physical _prestige_ was just the thing to captivate his limited imagination; besides which the ground was prepared for the seed-time. He had some soldier friends, and dining with these at the "Swas.h.i.+ng Buckler," he had heard some of those club chronicles in which the Cool Captain's name figured prominently.

The latter interpreted perfectly well the gaze that was riveted upon him, without being in the least flattered by it. He felt, perhaps, the same sort of satisfaction that one experiences when, fighting for the odd trick, the first card in our hand is a heavy trump. d.i.c.k's thorough and undivided allegiance once secured, was a good card in the game he was playing at the moment. Whatever his thoughts might have been, his face told no tales. He had been flooring gla.s.s for gla.s.s with his guest till the liquor began to work its way into the cracks even of such a seasoned vessel; but, for any outward or visible sign in feature, speech, or manner, he might have been a.s.sisting at a teetotaller's _soiree_.

Very often--late on guest-nights, or other tournaments of deep drinking, where Trojan and Tyrian met to do battle for the credit of their respective corps--the calm, rigid face, never flus.h.i.+ng beyond a clear swarthy brown, and the cold, bright, inevitable eyes, had stricken terror into the hearts of baccha.n.a.lian Heavies, and given consolation, if not confidence, to the Hussars, who were failing fast: these knew that though their own brains might be reeling and their legs rebelliously independent, their single champion was invincible. As the last of the Enomotae went down, he saw Othryades standing steadfastly, with never a trace of wound or weakness, still able and willing to write [Greek: NIKH] on his s.h.i.+eld.

When our poor d.i.c.k was once thoroughly impressed, for the first time, with awe or admiration, either for man or woman, he generally fell into a species of trance, from which it was exceedingly difficult to bring him round. He would have sat there, staring stupidly, till morning, with perfect satisfaction to himself, if Molyneux had not attacked him with a direct question, "How long do you think of staying at Dorade? And have you made any plans afterward?"

_Le mouton qui revait_ roused himself with an effort, and searched the bottom of his empty gla.s.s narrowly for a reply. Eventually he succeeded in finding one:

"Cecil talks about two months; then we are to go on by Nice, Genoa, Florence, Rome, and Naples, and so come back by--Italy." He had got up the first names by rote, and run them off glibly enough, but was evidently at fault about the last one. I fancy he had some vague idea of Austrian troops being quartered in these regions, and looked upon Hesperia in the light of an obscure state or moderate-sized town somewhere in the north of Europe.

Harry was balked in his inclination to laugh; the rising smile was checked upon his lip, just in time, by a glance from his chief, severely authoritative.

"Italy?" the latter said, without a muscle moving; "well, I shouldn't advise you to stay long there. It's rather a small place, and very stupid; no society whatever. The others will amuse you, as you have never seen them."

He rose as he spoke the last words. Perhaps he thought he had done that night "enough for profit and more than enough for glory." The Cool Captain seldom suffered himself to be bored without an adequate object very clearly in view.

"Hal, I am going to turn you out. It is far too late for you to be sitting up, and we have a good deal to do to-morrow."

Molyneux did not quite comprehend what extraordinary labors were before any of them, but he rose without making an objection, and Tresilyan prepared to accompany him. d.i.c.k considered that individually he had been remarkably brilliant, and had left a favorable impression behind him.

But all this newly-acquired confidence, and much strong drink were not sufficient to embolden him to risk, as yet, a _tete-a-tete_ with Royston Keene.

Long after they had departed the major sat gazing steadfastly at the logs burning on the hearth. If he had gone straight to bed, the enormous dullness of one of the party would have weighed him down like a nightmare.

Is there one of us who can not remember having seen prettier pictures in a flame-colored setting than the Royal Academy has ever shown him? What earthly painter could emulate or imitate the coquettish caprice of light and shadow, that enhances the charms, and dissembles all possible defects in those fair, fleeting Fiamminas? Something like this effect was to be found in the miniatures that were in fas.h.i.+on a dozen years ago; where part only of a sweet face and a dangerously eloquent eye looked at you out of a wreath of dusky cloud, that shrouded all the rest and gave your imagination play. Truly it was not so utterly wrong, the ancient legend that wedded Hephaestus to Aphrodite. The Minnesingers and their coevals spoke fairly enough about Love, and probably had studied their subject; but, rely upon it, pa.s.sionate Romance died in Germany when once the close stoves prevailed. Don't you envy the imagination of the dreamer who could trace a shape of loveliness in those dreadful glazed tiles?

Being rather a _Guebre_ myself, I once got enthusiastic on the subject in the company of an eccentric character, who very soon made me repent my expansiveness. If he had committed any atrocious crime (he was a small sandy-haired creature, and wore colored spectacles), no one knew of it, and he never hinted at its nature; but his whole ideas seemed tinged with a vague gloomy remorse that made him a sadder, but scarcely a wiser or better man. Perhaps it was a monomania; let us hope so. On that occasion he heard me out quite patiently; then the blue gla.s.ses raised themselves to the level of my eyes, and I felt convinced their owner was staring spectrally behind them. Considering that he measured about thirty-four inches round the chest, his voice was extraordinarily deep and solemn: it sounded preternaturally so as he said very slowly, "There is one face that does not often leave me alone here, and will follow me, I think, when I go to my appointed place: I see it now, as I shall see it throughout all ages--always _by firelight_."

I felt very wroth, for surely to suggest a new and unpleasant train of ideas is an infamous abuse of a _tete-a-tete_. I told my friend so; and, as he declined to retract or apologize, or in any wise explain himself, departed with the conviction that, though a clever man and an original thinker, he was by no means an exhilarating or instructive companion. I should have borne him a grudge to this day, but as I was walking home, decidedly disconsolate (there's no such bore as having a pet fancy spoiled, it is like having your favorite hunter sent home with two broken knees), it suddenly occurred to me that if the penitent was in the habit of looking at the fire through those blue barnacles, it was not likely there would be much rose-color in his visions. In great triumph I retraced my steps, and knocked the culprit up to put in this "demurrer." I flatter myself it floored him. He did attempt some lame excuse about "taking his spectacles off at such times," but I refused to listen to a word, and marched out of the place with drums beating and colors flying, first exasperating him by the a.s.surance of my complete forgiveness. Since then, if sitting alone, _ligna super foco large reponens_, I involuntarily recur to that ill-favored conception, it suffices to contrast with it the grotesque appearance of its originator, and the pale phantom evanisheth.

I have no excuse to offer for this long and egotistical anecdote, except the pendant which Maloney used to attach to his ultra-_marine_ stories--"The point of it is, that--it's strictly true."

CHAPTER VIII.

Another and a much more reputable Council of Three sat that night in Miss Tresilyan's apartments. Mr. Fullarton represented the male element there, and was in great force. The late accession to his flock had decidedly raised his spirits: he knew how materially it would strengthen his hands; but, independently of all politic consideration, Cecil's grace and beauty exercised a powerful influence over him. Do not misconstrue this. I believe a thought had never crossed his mind relating to any living woman that his own wife might not have known and approved; nevertheless was it true, that Mr. Fullarton liked his penitents to be fair: not a very eccentric or unaccountable taste either. It is a necessity of our nature to take more delight in the welfare and training of a beautiful and refined being, than in that of one who is coa.r.s.e and awkward and ugly. Even with the merely animal creation we should experience this; and not above one divine in fifty is _more_ than human, after all.

So, gazing on the fair face and queenly figure that were then before him, and feeling a sort of vested interest in their possessor, the heart of the pastor was merry within him; and he, so to speak, caroused over the profusely-sugared tea and well-b.u.t.tered _galette_ with a decorous and regulated joviality; ever as he drank casting down the wreaths of his florid eloquence at the feet of his entertainers. In any atmosphere whatsoever, no matter how uncongenial, those garlands were sure to bloom. His zeal was such a hardy perennial that the most chilling reception could not damage its vitality. Principle and intention were both all right, of course, but they were clumsily carried out, and the whole effect was to remind one unpleasantly of the clockmaker puffing his wares. At the most unseasonable times and in the most incongruous places, Mr. Fullarton always had an eye to business, introducing and inculcating his tenets with an a.s.surance and complacency peculiar to himself. Sometimes he would adopt the familiarly conversational, sometimes the theatrically effective style; but it never seemed to cross his mind that either could appear ridiculous or grotesque. Some absurd stories were told of his performances in this line. On one occasion, they say, he addressed his neighbor at dinner, to whom he had just been introduced, abruptly thus: "You see, what we want is--more faith," in precisely the manner and tone of a _gourmet_ suggesting that "the soup would be all the better for a little more seasoning;" or of Mr. Chouler a.s.serting, "the farmers must be protected, sir." On another, meeting for the first time a very pious and wealthy old man (I believe a joint-stock bank director), he proceeded to sound him as to his "experiences." The unsuspecting elder, rather flattered by the interest taken in his welfare, and never dreaming that such communications could be any thing but privileged and confidential, parted with his information pretty freely. Mr. Fullarton was so delighted at what he had heard that he turned suddenly round to the mixed a.s.sembly and cried out. "Why, here's a blessed old Barzillai!" His face was beaming like that of an enthusiastic numismatist who stumbles upon a rare Commodus or an authentic Domitian. There were several people present of his own way of thinking; but some, even among those, felt very ill afterward from their efforts to repress their laughter. The miserable individual thus endued with the "robe of honor" would have infinitely preferred the most scandalously abusive epithet to that fervid compliment. He would have parted with half his bank shares at a discount (they were paying about 14 per cent. then--you can get them tolerably cheap now) to have been able to sink into his shoes on the spot; indeed these were almost large enough to form convenient places of refuge. It had a very bad effect on him: he never again unbosomed himself on any subject to man, woman, or child. Even in his last illness--though he must have had one or two troublesome things on his mind, unless he had peculiar ideas, as to the propriety of ruining widows and orphans--he declined to commit himself,

But locked the secret in his breast, And died in silence, unconfessed.

On that Sat.u.r.day night, to one of the party at all events, Mr.

Fullarton's presence was very welcome. Mrs. Danvers was somewhat of a hard drinker in theology, and, like other intemperate people, was not over particular as to the quality of the liquors set before her, provided only that they were hot and strong, and unstinted. The succulent and highly-flavored eloquence to which she was listening suited her palate exactly, besides which, the chaplain's peculiar opinions happened to coincide perfectly with her own. As the evening progressed she got more and more exhilarated; and at length could not forbear intimating "how sincerely she valued the privilege of sitting under so eminent a divine."

The latter made a scientific little bow, elaborated evidently by long practice, expressive at once of gratification and humility.

"A privilege, if such it be, dear Mrs. Danvers, that some of my congregation estimate but very lightly. You would hardly believe how many members of my flock I scarcely know, except by name. It is a sore temptation to discouragement. I fear that Major Keene's pernicious example is indeed contagious, and that his evil communications have corrupted many--alas! too many." He rounded off the period with a ponderous professional sigh.

Miss Tresilyan was leaning back in her arm-chair: as the wood-fire sprang up brightly and sank again suddenly, her great deep eyes seemed to flash back the fitful gleams. It was long since she had spoken. In truth, she had been drawing largely upon her piety at first, to make herself feel interested, and, when this failed, upon her courtesy, to appear so; but she was conscious of relapses more and more frequent into the dreary regions of Boredom. Every body _would_ agree with every body else so completely! A bold contradiction, a stinging sarcasm, or a caustic retort, would have been worth any thing just then to take off the cloying taste of the everlasting honey. She roused herself at these last words enough to ask languidly, "What has he done?"

There could not be a simpler question, nor one put more carelessly; but it was rather a "facer" to Mr. Fullarton, who dealt in generalities as a rule, and objected to being brought to book about particulars--considering, indeed, such a line of argument as indicative of a caviling and narrow-minded disposition in his interlocutor.

"Well," he said, not without hesitation, "Major Keene has only once been to church; and, I believe, has spoken scoffingly since of the discourse he heard delivered there. Yet I may say I was more than usually 'supported' on that occasion." The man's thorough air of conviction softened somewhat the absurd effect of his childish vanity.

Cecil would have been sorry to confess how much excuse she felt inclined to admit just then for the sins both of commission and omission--sins that, at another time, when her faculties were fresh and her judgment unbia.s.sed, she might have looked upon as any thing but venial. Ah! Mr.

Fullarton, the seed you have scattered so profusely to-night is beginning to bear fruit already you never dreamed of. Beet-root and turnips will not succeed on _every_ soil. It must be long before a remunerative crop of these can be gathered from the breezy upland which for centuries, till the heather was burned, has worn a robe of uncommercial but imperial purple.

Nevertheless, Miss Tresilyan frowned perceptibly. It looked very much as if Keene had been amusing himself at her expense when he affected an interest in her leading the choir. Unwittingly to "make sport for the men of war in Gath" by no means suited the fancy of that haughty ladye.

"It is very wrong of him not to come to church," she observed after a pause (for the sin of sarcasm disapproval was not so ready, and she made the most of scanty means of condemnation). "Yet I scarcely think he can be actively hostile. You know he almost lives with the Molyneuxs, and has great influence with them. Do they not attend regularly?"

Mr. Fullarton admitted that they did. "But," said he, "constant intercourse with such a man must ere long have its injurious effect.

Indeed, I felt it my bounden duty to warn Mrs. Molyneux on the subject.

I grieve to say she treated my admonition with a very unwarrantable levity."

Mrs. Danvers's sympathetic groan was promptly at the service of the speaker; fortunately, turning to thank her for it by a look, he missed detecting her pupil's smile. She could fancy so well f.a.n.n.y's little _moue_, combining amus.e.m.e.nt, vexation, and impertinence, while undergoing the ecclesiastical censure.

"You must be merciful to Mrs. Molyneux," she remarked, with a demure gravity that did her credit under the circ.u.mstances. "She is my greatest friend, you know. When a wife is so very fond of her husband, surely there is some excuse for her adopting his prejudices for and against people?"

The pastor brightened up suddenly: he had just recollected another fact to fire off against the _bete noir_.

"I forgot to tell you that Major Keene is much addicted to play, and, besides, is intimate with the Vicomte de Chateaumesnil. _Noscitur a sociis._" The reverend man was an indifferent cla.s.sic, but he had a way of flas.h.i.+ng sc.r.a.ps out of grammars and _a.n.a.lecta Minora_ before women and others unlikely to be down upon him, as if they were quotations from some recondite author.

"You can not mean that cripple who is drawn about in a wheel-chair?"

Cecil asked. "We saw him to-day, only for a moment, for he drew his cloak over his face as we pa.s.sed. I never saw such a melancholy wreck, and I pitied him so much that I fear he will haunt me."