The Fortunes Of Glencore Part 49

"Be it so, my dear fellow; only don't give me your reasons, and at least I shall respect your motives."

"What would you do, then, in Glencore's place? Let me ask you that."

"You may as well inquire how I should behave if I were a quadruped.

Don't you perceive that I never could, by any possibility, place myself in such a false position? The man who, in a case of difficulty, takes counsel from his pa.s.sions, is exactly like one, who being thirsty, fills himself out a b.u.mper of aquafortis and drinks it off."

"I wish with all my heart you 'd give up aphorisms, and just tell me how we could serve this poor fellow; for I feel that there is a gleam of light breaking through his dark fortunes."

"When a man is in the state Glencore is now in, the best policy is to let him alone. They tell us that when Murat's blood was up, the Emperor always left him to his own guidance, since he either did something excessively brilliant, or made such a blunder as recalled him to subjection again. Let us treat our friend in this fas.h.i.+on, and wait. Oh, my worthy Colonel, if you but knew what a secret there is in that same waiting policy. Many a game is won by letting the adversary move out of his turn."

"If all this subtlety be needed to guide a man in the plain road of life, what is to become of poor simple fellows like myself?"

"Let them never go far from home, Harcourt, and they 'll always find their way back," said Upton; and his eyes twinkled with quiet drollery.

"Come, now," said he, with perfect good-nature of look and voice, "If I won't tell you what I should counsel Glencore in this emergency, I 'll do the next best thing, I' ll tell you what advice you'd give him."

"Let us hear it, then," said the other.

"You'd send him abroad to search out his wife; ask her forgiveness for all the wrong he has done her; call out any man that whispered the shadow of a reproach against her; and go back to such domesticity as it might please Heaven to accord him."

"Certainly, if the woman has been unjustly dealt with--"

"There's the rock you always split on: you are everlastingly in search of a character. Be satisfied when you have eaten a hearty breakfast, and don't ask for a bill of health. Researches are always dangerous. My great grandfather, who had a pa.s.sion for genealogy, was cured of it by discovering that the first of the family was a staymaker! Let the lesson not be lost on us."

"From all which I am to deduce that you 'd ask no questions,--take her home again, and say nothing."

"You forget, Harcourt, we are now discussing the line of action _you_ would recommend; I am only hinting at the best mode of carrying out _your_ ideas."

"Just for the pleasure of showing me that I did n't know how to walk in the road I made myself," said Harcourt, laughing.

"What a happy laugh that was, Harcourt! How plainly, too, it said, 'Thank Heaven I 'm not like that fellow, with all his craft!' And you are right too, my dear friend; if the devil were to walk the world now, he 'd be bored beyond endurance, seeing nothing but the old vices played over again and again. And so it is with all of us who have a spice of his nature; we'd give anything to see one new trick on the cards. Good night, and pleasant dreams to you!" And with a sigh that had in its cadence something almost painful, he gave his two fingers to the honest grasp of the other, and withdrew.

"You're a better fellow than you think yourself, or wish any one else to believe you," muttered Harcourt, as he puffed his cigar; and he ruminated over this reflection till it was bedtime.

And Harcourt was right.

CHAPTER XL. UPTONISM

About noon on the following day, Sir Horace Upton and the Colonel drove up to the gate of the villa at Sorrento, and learned, to their no small astonishment, that the Princess had taken her departure that morning for Como. If Upton heard these tidings with a sense of pain, nothing in his manner betrayed the sentiment; on the contrary, he proceeded to do the honors of the place like its owner. He showed Harcourt the grounds and the gardens, pointed out all the choice points of view, directed his attention to rare plants and curious animals; and then led him within doors to admire the objects of art and luxury which abounded there.

"And that, I conclude, is a portrait of the Princess," said Harcourt, as he stood before what had been a flattering likeness twenty years back.

"Yes, and a wonderful resemblance," said Upton, eying it through his gla.s.s. "Fatter and fuller now, perhaps; but it was done after an illness."

"By Jove!" muttered Harcourt, "she must be beautiful; I don't think I ever saw a handsomer woman!"

"You are only repeating a European verdict. She is the most perfectly beautiful woman of the Continent."

"So there is no flattery in that picture?"

"Flattery! Why, my dear fellow, these people, the very cleverest of them, can't imagine anything as lovely as that. They can imitate,--they never invent real beauty."

"And clever, you say, too?"

"_Esprit_ enough for a dozen reviewers and fifty fas.h.i.+onable novelists."

And as he spoke he smiled and coquetted with the portrait, as though to say, "Don't mind my saying all this to your face."

"I suppose her history is a very interesting one."

"Her history, my worthy Harcourt! She has a dozen histories. Such women have a life of politics, a life of literature, a life of the _salons_, a life of the affections, not to speak of the episodes of jealousy, ambition, triumph, and sometimes defeat, that make up the brilliant web of their existence. Some three or four such people give the whole character and tone to the age they live in. They mould its interests, sway its fas.h.i.+ons, suggest its tastes, and they finally rule those who fancy that they rule mankind."

"Egad, then, it makes one very sorry for poor mankind," muttered Harcourt, with a most honest sincerity of voice.

"Why should it do so, my good Harcourt? Is the refinement of a woman's intellect a worse guide than the coa.r.s.er instincts of a man's nature?

Would you not yourself rather trust your destinies to the fair creature yonder than be left to the legislative mercies of that old gentleman there, Hardenberg, or his fellow on the other side, Metternich?"

"Grim-looking fellow the Prussian; the other is much better," said Harcourt, rather evading the question.

"I confess I prefer the Princess," said Upton, as he bowed before the portrait in deepest courtesy. "But here comes breakfast. I have ordered them to give it to us here, that we may enjoy that glorious sea view while we eat."

"I thought your cook a man of genius, Upton, but this fellow is his master," said Harcourt, as he tasted his soup.

"They are brothers,--twins, too; and they have their separate gifts,"

said Upton, affectedly. "My fellow, they tell me, has the finer intelligence; but he plays deeply, speculates on the Bourse, and it spoils his nerve."

Harcourt watched the delivery of this speech to catch if there were any signs of raillery in the speaker; he felt that there was a kind of mockery in the words; but there was none in the manner, for there was not any in the mind of him who uttered them.

"My _chef_," resumed Upton, "is a great essayist, who must have time for his efforts. This fellow is a _feuilleton_ writer, who is required to be new and sparkling every day of the year,--always varied, never profound."

"And is this your life of every day?" said Harcourt, as he surveyed the splendid room, and carried his glance towards the terraced gardens that flanked the sea.

"Pretty much this kind of thing," sighed Upton, wearily.

"And no great hards.h.i.+p either, I should call it."

"No, certainly not," said the other, hesitatingly. "To one like myself, for instance, who has no health for the wear and tear of public life, and no heart for its ambitions, there is a great deal to like in the quiet retirement of a first-cla.s.s mission."

"Is there really, then, nothing to do?" asked Harcourt, innocently.

"Nothing, if you don't make it for yourself. You can have a harvest if you like to sow. Otherwise, you may lie in fallow the year long.

The subordinates take the petty miseries of diplomacy for _their_ share,--the sorrows of insulted Englishmen, the pa.s.sport difficulties, the custom-house troubles, the police insults. The Secretary calls at the offices of the Government, carries messages and the answers; and I, when I have health for it, make my compliments to the King in a c.o.c.ked hat on his birthday, and have twelve grease-pots illuminated over my door to honor the same festival."

"And is that all?"

"Very nearly. In fact, when one does anything more, they generally do wrong; and by a steady persistence in this kind of thing for thirty years, you are called 'a safe man, who never compromised his Government,' and are certain to be employed by any party in power."

"I begin to think I might be an envoy myself," said Harcourt.