I open an account with my bankers, draw largely upon credulity, and am prosperous without a check.
I sat down and took up the papers. I was immediately and strangely interested in all that I read. A secret!—it was, indeed, a secret, involving the honour and reputation of the most distinguished families. One that, if known, the trumpet of scandal would have blazoned forth to the disgrace of the aristocracy. It would have occasioned bitter tears to some, gratified the petty malice of many, satisfied the revenge of the vindictive, and bowed with shame the innocent as well as the guilty. It is not necessary, nor, indeed, would I, on any account, state any more. I finished the last paper, and then fell into a reverie. This is, indeed, a secret, thought I; one that I would I never had possessed. In a despotic country my life would be sacrificed to the fatal knowledge—here, thank God, my life as well as my liberty are safe.
The contents of the papers told me all that was necessary to enable me to support the character which I had assumed. The reason why the party, whom I was supposed to be, was intrusted with it, was, that he was in a direct line, eventually heir, and the question was whether he would waive his claim with the others, and allow death to bury crime in oblivion. I felt that were I in his position I should so do—and therefore was prepared to give an answer to his lordship. I sealed up the papers, dressed myself, and went to dinner; and after the cloth was removed, Lord Windermear, first rising and turning the key in the door, said to me, in a low voice, "You have read the papers, and what those, nearly as much interested as you are in this lamentable business, have decided upon. Tell me, what is your opinion?"
"My opinion, my lord, is, that I wish I had never known what has come to light this day—that it will be most advisable never to recur to the subject, and that the proposals made are, in my opinion, most judicious, and should be acted upon."
"That is well," replied his lordship; "then all are agreed, and I am proud to find you possessed of such honour and good feeling. We now drop the subject for ever. Are you inclined to leave town with me, or what do you intend to do?"
"I prefer remaining in town, if your lordship will introduce me to some of the families of your acquaintance. Of course I know no one now."
"Very true; I will introduce you, as agreed, as Mr Newland. It may be as well that you do not know any of our relations, whom I have made to suppose, that you are still abroad—and it would be awkward, when you take your right name by-and-bye. Do you mean to see your mother?"
"Impossible, my lord, at present; by-and-bye I hope to be able."
"Perhaps it's all for the best. I will now write one note to Major Carbonnell, introducing you as my particular friend, and requesting that he will make London agreeable. He knows everybody, and will take you everywhere."
"When does your lordship start for the country?"
"To-morrow; so we may as well part to-night. By-the-by, you have credit at Drummond's, in the name of Newland, for a thousand pounds; the longer you make it last you the better."
His lordship gave me the letter of introduction. I returned to him the sealed packet, shook hands with him, and took my departure.
"Well, sir," said Timothy, rubbing his hands, as he stood before me, "what is the news; for I am dying to hear it—and what is this secret?"
"With regard to the secret, Tim, a secret it must remain. I dare not tell it even to you." Timothy looked rather grave at this reply. "No, Timothy, as a man of honour, I cannot." My conscience smote me when I made use of the term; for, as a man of honour, I had no business to be in possession of it. "My dear Timothy, I have done wrong already, do not ask me to do worse."
"I will not, Japhet; but only tell me what has passed, and what you intend to do?"
"That I will, Timothy, with pleasure;" and I then stated all that had passed between his lordship and me.
"And now, you observe, Timothy, I have gained what I desired, an introduction into the best society."
"And the means of keeping up your appearance," echoed Timothy, rubbing his hands. "A thousand pounds will last a long while."
"It will last a very long while, Tim, for I never will touch it; it would be swindling."
"So it would," replied Tim, his countenance falling; "well, I never thought of that."
"I have thought of much more, Tim; recollect I must, in a very short time, be exposed to Lord Windermear, for the real Mr Neville will soon come home."
"Good heavens! what will become of us?" replied Timothy, with alarm in his countenance.
"Nothing can hurt you, Tim, the anger will be all upon me; but I am prepared to face it, and I would face twice as much for the distant hope of finding my father. Whatever Lord Windermear may feel inclined to do, he can do nothing; and my possession of the secret will ensure even more than my safety; it will afford me his protection, if I demand it."
"I hope it may prove so," replied Timothy, "but I feel a little frightened."
"I do not; to-morrow I shall give my letter of introduction, and then I will prosecute my search. So now, my dear Tim, good-night."
The next morning, I lost no time in presenting my letter of introduction to Major Carbonnell. He lived in apartments on the first floor in St James's Street, and I found him at breakfast, in a silk dressing gown. I had made up my mind that a little independence always carries with it an air of fashion. When I entered, therefore, I looked at him with a knowing air, and dropping the letter down on the table before him, said, "There's something for you to read, Major; and, in the meantime, I'll refresh myself on this chair;" suiting the action to the word, I threw myself on a chair, amusing myself with tapping the sides of my boots with a small cane which I carried in my hand.
Major Carbonnell, upon whom I cast a furtive eye more than once during the time that he was reading the letter, was a person of about thirty-five years of age, well-looking, but disfigured by the size of his whiskers, which advanced to the corners of his mouth, and met under his throat. He was tall and well made, and with an air of fashion about him that was undeniable. His linen was beautifully, clean and carefully arranged, and he had as many rings on his fingers, and, when he was dressed, chains and trinkets, as ever were put on by a lady.
"My dear sir, allow me the honour of making at once your most intimate acquaintance," said he, rising from his chair, and offering his hand, as soon as he had perused the letter. "Any friend of Lord Windermear's would be welcome, but when he brings such an extra recommendation in his own appearance, he becomes doubly so."
"Major Carbonnell," replied I, "I have seen you but two minutes, and I have taken a particular fancy to you, in which I, no doubt, have proved my discrimination. Of course, you know that I have just returned from making a tour?"
"So I understand from his lordship's letter. Mr Newland, my time is at your service. Where are you staying?"
"At the Piazza."
"Very good; I will dine with you to-day; order some mulligatawny, they are famous for it. After dinner we will go to the theatre."
I was rather surprised at his cool manner of asking himself to dine with me and ordering my dinner, but a moment's reflection made me feel what sort of person I had to deal with.
"Major, I take that as almost an affront. You will dine with me to-day! I beg to state that you must dine with me every day that we are not invited elsewhere; and what's more, sir, I shall be most seriously displeased, if you do not order the dinner every time that you do dine with me, and ask whoever you may think worthy of putting their legs under our table, Let's have no doing things by halves, Major; I know you now as well as if we had been intimate for ten years."
The Major seized me by the hand. "My dear Newland, I only wish we had known one another ten years, as you say—the loss has been mine; but now—you have breakfasted, I presume?"
"Yes; having nothing to do, and not knowing a soul after my long absence, I advanced my breakfast about two hours, that I might find you at home; and now I'm at your service."
"Say rather I am at yours. I presume you will walk. In ten minutes I shall be ready. Either take up the paper, or whistle an air or two, or anything else you like, just to kill ten minutes—and I shall be at your command."
I come out under a first-rate chaperon, and at once am established into the regions of fashion—Prove that I am deserving of my promotion.
"I beg your pardon, Newland," said the Major, returning from his dressing-room, resplendent with chains and bijouterie; "but I must have your Christian name."
"It's rather a strange one," replied I; "it is Japhet."
"Japhet! by the immortal powers, I'd bring an action against my godfathers and godmothers; you ought to recover heavy damages."
"Then I presume you would not have the name," replied I, with a knowing look, "for a clear ten thousand a year."
"Whew! that alters the case—it's astonishing how well any name looks in large gold letters. Well, as the old gentleman, whoever he might have been, made you compensation, you must forgive and forget. Now where shall we go?"
"With your permission, as I came to town in these clothes, made by a German tailor—Darmstadt's tailor by-the-bye—but still if tailor to a prince, not the prince of tailors—I would wish you to take me to your own: your dress appears very correct."
"You show your judgment, Newland, it is correct; Stulz will be delighted to have your name on his books, and to do justice to that figure. Allons donc."
We sauntered up St James's Street, and before I had arrived at Stulz's, I had been introduced to at least twenty of the young men about town. The Major was most particular in his directions about the clothes, all of which he ordered; and as I knew that he was well acquainted with the fashion, I gave him carte blanche. When we left the shop, he said, "Now, my dear Newland, I have given you a proof of friendship, which no other man in England has had. Your dress will be the ne plus ultra. There are little secrets only known to the initiated, and Stulz is aware that this time I am in earnest. I am often asked to do the same for others, and I pretend so to do; but a wink from me is sufficient, and Stulz dares not dress them. Don't you want some bijouterie? or have you any at home?"
"I may as well have a few trifles," replied I.
We entered a celebrated jeweller's, and he selected for me to the amount of about forty pounds. "That will do—never buy much; for it is necessary to change every three months at least. What is the price of this chain?"
"It is only fifteen guineas, Major."
"Well, I shall take it; but recollect," continued the Major; "I tell you honestly, I never shall pay you."
The jeweller smiled, bowed, and laughed; the Major threw the chain round his neck, and we quitted the shop.
"At all events, Major, they appear not to believe your word in that shop."
"My dear fellow, that's their own fault, not mine. I tell them honestly I never will pay them; and you may depend upon it, I intend most sacredly to keep my word. I never do pay anybody, for the best of all possible reasons, I have no money; but then I do them a service—I make them fashionable, and they know it."
"What debts do you pay then, Major?"
"Let me think—that requires consideration. Oh! I pay my washer-woman."
"Don't you pay your debts of honour?"
"Debts of honour! why I'll tell you the truth; for I know that we shall hunt in couples. If I win I take the money: but if I lose—why then I forget to pay; and I always tell them so before I set down to the table. If they won't believe me, it's not my fault. But what's the hour? Come, I must make a few calls, and will introduce you."
We sauntered on to Grosvenor Square, knocked, and were admitted into a large, elegantly-furnished mansion. The footman announced us—"My dear Lady Maelstrom, allow me the honour of introducing to you my very particular friend, Mr Newland, consigned to my charge by my Lord Windermear during his absence. He has just arrived from the continent, where he has been making the grand tour."
Her ladyship honoured me with a smile. "By-the-bye, Major, that reminds me—do me the favour to come to the window. Excuse us one moment, Mr Newland."
The Major and Lady Maelstrom walked to the window, and exchanged a few sentences, and then returned. Her ladyship holding up her finger, and saying to him as they came towards me, "Promise me now that you won't forget."
"Your ladyship's slightest wishes are to me imperative commands," replied the Major, with a graceful bow.
In a quarter of an hour, during which the conversation was animated, we rose to take our leave, when her ladyship came up to me, and offering her hand, said, "Mr Newland, the friendship of Lord Windermear, and the introduction of Major Carbonnell, are more than sufficient to induce me to put your name down on my visiting list. I trust I shall see a great deal of you, and that we shall be great friends."
I bowed to this handsome announcement, and we retired. As soon as we were out in the square, the Major observed, "You saw her take me on one side—it was to pump. She has no daughters, but about fifty nieces, and match-making is her delight. I told her that I would stake my honour upon your possessing ten thousand a year; how much more I could not say. I was not far wrong, was I?"
I laughed. "What I may be worth, Major, I really cannot say; but I trust that the event will prove that you are not far wrong. Say no more, my dear fellow."
"I understand—you are not yet of age—of course, have not yet come into possession of your fortune."
"That is exactly the case, Major. I am now but little more than nineteen."
"You look older; but there is no getting over baptismal registries with the executors. Newland, you must content yourself for the two next years in playing Moses, and only peep at the promised land."
We made two or three more calls, and then returned to St James's Street. "Where shall we go now? By-the-bye, don't you want to go to your banker's?"
"I will just stroll down with you, and see if they have paid any money in," replied I, carelessly.
We called at Drummond's, and I asked them if there was any money paid in to the credit of Mr Newland.
"Yes, sir," replied one of the clerks: "there is one thousand pounds paid in yesterday."
"Very good," replied I.
"How much do you wish to draw for?" inquired the Major.
"I don't want any," replied I. "I have more money than I ought to have in my desk at this moment."
"Well, then, let us go and order dinner; or perhaps you would like to stroll about a little more; if so, I will go and order the dinner. Here's Harcourt, that's lucky. Harcourt my dear fellow, know Mr Newland, my very particular friend. I must leave you now; take his arm, Harcourt, for half an hour, and then join us at dinner at the Piazza."
Mr Harcourt was an elegant young man of about five-and-twenty. Equally pleased with each other's externals, we were soon familiar: he was witty, sarcastic, and wellbred. After half an hour's conversation he asked me what I thought of the Major. I looked him in the face and smiled. "That look tells me that you will not be his dupe, otherwise I had warned you: he is a strange character: but if you have money enough to afford to keep him, you cannot do better, as he is acquainted with, and received by, everybody. His connections are good; and he once had a very handsome fortune, but it was soon run out, and he was obliged to sell his commission in the Guards. Now he lives upon the world; which as Shakespeare says, is his oyster; and he has wit and sharpness enough to open it. Moreover, he has some chance of falling into a peerage; that prospect, and his amusing qualities, added to his being the most fashionable man about town, keeps his head above water. I believe Lord Windermear, who is his cousin, very often helps him."
"It was Lord Windermear who introduced me to him," observed I.
"Then he will not venture to play any tricks upon you, further than eating your dinners, borrowing your money, and forgetting to pay it."
"You must acknowledge," said I, "he always tells you beforehand that he never will pay you."
"And that is the only point in which he adheres to his word," replied Harcourt, laughing; "but, tell me, am I to be your guest to-day?"
"If you will do me that honour."
"I assure you I am delighted to come, as I shall have a further opportunity of cultivating your acquaintance."
"Then we had better bend our steps towards the hotel, for it is late," replied I; and we did so accordingly.
The real Simon Pure proves the worse of the two—I am found guilty, but not condemned; convicted, yet convince; and after having behaved the very contrary to, prove that I am, a gentleman.
On our arrival, we found the table spread, champagne in ice under the sideboard, and apparently everything prepared for a sumptuous dinner, the Major on the sofa giving directions to the waiter, and Timothy looking all astonishment.
"Major," said I, "I cannot tell you how much I am obliged to you for your kindness in taking all this trouble off my hands, that I might follow up the agreeable introduction you have given me to Mr Harcourt."
"My dear Newland, say no more; you will, I dare say, do the same for me if I require it, when I give a dinner. (Harcourt caught my eye, as if to say, "You may safely promise that.") But, Newland, do you know that the nephew of Lord Windermear has just arrived? Did you meet abroad?"
"No," replied I, somewhat confused; but I soon recovered myself. As for Tim, he bolted out of the room. "What sort of a person is he?"
"That you may judge for yourself, my dear fellow, for I asked him to join us, I must say, more out of compliment to Lord Windermear than anything else; for I am afraid that, even I could never make a gentleman of him. But take Harcourt with you to your room, and by the time you have washed your hands, I will have dinner on the table. I took the liberty of desiring your valet to show me in about ten minutes ago. He's a shrewd fellow that of your's—where did you pick him up?"
"By mere accident," replied I; "come, Mr Harcourt."
On our return, we found the real Simon Pure, Mr Estcourt, sitting with the major, who introduced us, and dinner being served, we sat down to table.
Mr Estcourt was a young man, about my own age, but not so tall by two or three inches. His features were prominent, but harsh; and when I saw him, I was not at all surprised at Lord Windermear's expressions of satisfaction, when he suppossd that I was his nephew. His countenance was dogged and sullen, and he spoke little; he appeared to place an immense value upon birth, and hardly deigned to listen, except the aristocracy were the subject of discourse. I treated him with marked deference, that I might form an acquaintance, and found before we parted that night, that I had succeeded. Our dinner was excellent, and we were all, except Mr Estcourt, in high good humour. We sat late—too late to go to the theatre, and promising to meet the next day at noon, Harcourt and the Major took their leave.
Mr Estcourt had indulged rather too much, and, after their departure, became communicative. I plied the bottle and we sat up for more than an hour; he talked of nothing but his family and his expectations. I took this opportunity of discovering what his feelings were likely to be when he was made acquainted with the important secret which was in my possession. I put a case somewhat similar, and asked him whether in such circumstances he would waive his right for a time, to save the honour of his family.
"No, by G—d!" replied he, "I never would. What! give up even for a day my right—conceal my true rank for the sake of relatives? never—nothing would induce me."
I was satisfied, and then casually asked him if he had written to Lord Windermear to inform him of his arrival.
"No," replied he; "I shall write to-morrow." He soon after retired to his own apartment, and I rang for Timothy.
"Good heavens, sir!" cried Timothy, "what is all this—and what are you about? I am frightened out of my wits. Why, sir, our money will not last two months."
"I do not expect it will last much longer, Tim; but it cannot be helped. Into society I must get—and to do so, must pay for it."
"But, sir, putting the expense aside, what are we to do about this Mr Estcourt? All must be found out."
"I intend that it shall be found out, Tim," replied I; "but not yet. He will write to his uncle to-morrow; you must obtain the letter, for it must not go. I must first have time to establish myself, and then Lord Windermear may find out his error as soon as he pleases."
"Upon my honour, Japhet, you appear to be afraid of nothing."
"I fear nothing, Tim, when I am following up the object of my wishes. I will allow no obstacles to stand in my way, in my search after my father."
"Really, you seem to be quite mad on that point, Japhet."
"Perhaps I may be, Tim," replied I, thoughtfully. "At all events, let us go to bed now, and I will tell you to-morrow morning, all the events of this day."
Mr Estcourt wrote his letter, which Tim very officiously offered to put into the post, instead of which we put it between the bars of the grate.
I must now pass over about three weeks, during which I became very intimate with the Major and Mr Harcourt, and was introduced by them to the clubs, and almost every person of fashion. The idea of my wealth, and my very handsome person and figure, ensured me a warm reception, and I soon became one of the stars of the day. During this time, I also gained the entire confidence of Mr Estcourt, who put letter after letter into the hands of Timothy, who of course put them into the usual place. I pacified him as long as I could, by expressing my opinion, that his lordship was on a visit to some friends in the neighbourhood of his seat; but at last, he would remain in town no longer. You may go now, thought I, I feel quite safe.
It was about five days after his departure, as I was sauntering, arm in arm with the Major, who generally dined with me about five days in the week, that I perceived the carriage of Lord Windermear, with his lordship in it. He saw us, and pulling his check-string, alighted, and coming up to us, with the colour mounting to his forehead with emotion, returned the salute of the Major and me.
"Major," said he, "you will excuse me, but I am anxious to have some conversation with Mr Newland; perhaps," continued his lordship, addressing me, "you will do me the favour to take a seat in my carriage?"
Fully prepared, I lost none of my self-possession, but, thanking his lordship, I bowed to him, and stepped in.
His lordship followed, and, saying to the footman, "Home—drive fast," fell back in the carriage, and never uttered one word until we had arrived, and had entered the dining-parlour. He then took a few steps up and down, before he said, "Mr Newland, or whatever your name may be, I perceive that you consider the possession of an important secret to be your safeguard. To state my opinion of your conduct is needless; who you are, and what you are, I know not; but," continued he, no longer controlling his anger; "you certainly can have no pretensions to the character of a gentleman."
"Perhaps your lordship," replied I, calmly, "will inform me upon what you may ground your inference."
"Did you not, in the first place, open a letter addressed to another?"
"My lord, I opened a letter brought to me with the initials of my name, and at the time I opened it I fully believed that it was intended for me."
"We will grant that, sir; but after you had opened it you must have known that it was for some other person."
"I will not deny that, my lord."
"Notwithstanding which, you apply to my lawyer, representing yourself as another person, to obtain sealed papers."
"I did, my lord; but allow me to say, that I never should have done so, had I not been warned by a dream."
"By a dream?"
"Yes, my lord. I had determined not to go for them, when in a dream I was ordered so to do."
"Paltry excuse! and then you break private seals."
"Nay, my lord, although I did go for the papers, I could not, even with the idea of supernatural interposition, make up my mind to break the seals. If your lordship will recollect, it was you who broke the seals, and insisted upon my reading the papers."
"Yes, sir, under your false name."
"It is the name by which I go at present, although I acknowledge it is false; but that is not my fault—I have no other at present."
"It is very true, sir, that in all I have now mentioned, the law will not reach you; but recollect, that by assuming another person's name—"
"I never did, my lord," interrupted I.
"Well, I may say, by inducing me to believe that you were my nephew, you have obtained money under false pretences; and for that I now have you in my power."
"My lord, I never asked you for the money; you yourself paid it into the banker's hands to my credit, and to my own name. I appeal to you now, whether, if you so deceived yourself, the law can reach me?"
"Mr Newland, I will say, that much as I regret what has passed, I regret more than all the rest, that one so young, so prepossessing, so candid in appearance, should prove such an adept in deceit. Thinking you were my nephew, my heart warmed towards you, and I must confess, that since I have seen my real nephew, the mortification has been very great."
"My lord, I thank you; but allow me to observe, that I am no swindler. Your thousand pounds you will find safe in the bank, for penury would not have induced me to touch it. But now that your lordship appears more cool, will you do me the favour to listen to me? When you have heard my life up to the present, and my motives for what I have done, you will then decide how far I am to blame."
His lordship took a chair, and motioned to me to take another. I narrated what had occurred when I was left at the Foundling, and gave him a succinct account of my adventures subsequently—my determination to find my father—the dream which induced me to go for the papers—and all that the reader has already been acquainted with. His lordship evidently perceived the monomania which controlled me, and heard me with great attention.
"You certainly, Mr Newland, do not stand so low in my opinion as you did before this explanation, and I must make allowances for the excitement under which I perceive you to labour on one subject; but now, sir, allow me to put one question, and I beg that you will answer candidly. What price do you demand for your secrecy on this important subject?"
"My lord!" replied I, rising with dignity; "this is the greatest affront you have put upon me yet; still I will name the price by which I will solemnly bind myself, by all my future hopes of finding my father in this world, and of finding an eternal Father in the next, and that price, my lord, is a return of your good opinion."
His lordship also rose, and walked up and down the room with much agitation in his manner. "What am I to make of you, Mr Newland?"
"My lord, if I were a swindler, I should have taken your money; if I had wished to avail myself of the secret, I might have escaped with all the documents, and made my own terms. I am, my lord, nothing more than an abandoned child, trying all he can to find his father" My feelings overpowered me, and I burst into tears. As soon as I could recover myself, I addressed his lordship, who had been watching me in silence, and not without emotion. "I have one thing more to say to you, my lord." I then mentioned the conversation between Mr Estcourt and myself, and pointed out the propriety of not making him a party to the important secret.
His lordship allowed me to proceed without interruption, and after a few moments' thought said, "I believe that you are right, Mr Newland; and I now begin to think that it was better that this secret should have been entrusted to you than to him. You have now conferred an obligation on me, and may command me. I believe you to be honest, but a little mad, and I beg your pardon for the pain which I have occasioned you."
"My lord, I am more than satisfied."
"Can I be of any assistance to you, Mr Newland?"
"If, my lord, you could at all assist me, or direct me in my search—"
"There I am afraid I can be of little use; but I will give you the means of prosecuting your search, and in so doing, I am doing but an act of justice, for in introducing you to Major Carbonnell, I am aware that I must have very much increased your expenses. It was an error which must be repaired, and therefore, Mr Newland, I beg you will consider the money at the bank as yours, and make use of it to enable you to obtain your ardent wish."
"My lord—"
"I will not be denied, Mr Newland; and if you feel any delicacy on the subject, you may take it as a loan, to be repaid when you find it convenient. Do not, for a moment, consider that it is given to you because you possess an important secret, for I will trust entirely to your honour on that score."
"Indeed, my lord," replied I, "your kindness overwhelms me, and I feel as if, in you, I had already almost found a father. Excuse me, my lord, but did your lordship ever—ever—"
"I know what you would say, my poor fellow: no, I never did. I never was blessed with children. Had I been, I should not have felt that I was disgraced by having one resembling you. Allow me to entreat you, Mr Newland, that you do not suffer the mystery of your birth to weigh so heavily on your mind; and now I wish you good morning, and if you think I can be useful to you, I beg that you will not fail to let me know."
"May Heaven pour down blessings on your head," replied I, kissing respectfully his lordship's hand; "and may my father, when I find him, be as like unto you as possible." I made my obeisance, and quitted the house.
The Major prevents the landlord from imposing on me, but I gain nothing by his interference—For economical reasons I agree to live with him that he may live on me.
I returned to the hotel, for my mind had been much agitated, and I wished for quiet, and the friendship of Timothy. As soon as I arrived I told him all that had passed.
"Indeed," replied Timothy, "things do now wear a pleasant aspect; for I am afraid, that without that thousand, we could not have carried on for a fortnight longer. The bill here is very heavy, and I'm sure the landlord wishes to see the colour of his money."
"How much do you think we have left? It is high time, Timothy, that we now make up our accounts, and arrange some plans for the future," replied I. "I have paid the jeweller and the tailor, by the advice of the Major, who says, that you should always pay your first bills as soon as possible, and all your subsequent bills as late as possible; and if put off sine die, so much the better. In fact, I owe very little now, but the bill here, I will send for it to-night."
Here we were interrupted by the entrance of the landlord. "O Mr Wallace, you are the very person I wished to see; let me have my bill, if you please."
"It's not of the least consequence, sir," replied he; "but if you wish it, I have posted down to yesterday," and the landlord left the room.
"You were both of one mind, at all events," said Timothy, laughing; "for he had the bill in his hand, and concealed it the moment you asked for it."
In about ten minutes the landlord re-appeared, and presenting the bill upon a salver, made his bow and retired. I looked it over, it amounted to £104, which, for little more than three weeks, was pretty well. Timothy shrugged up his shoulders, while I ran over the items. "I do not see that there is anything to complain of, Tim," observed I, when I came to the bottom of it; "but I do see that living here, with the Major keeping me an open house, will never do. Let us see how much money we have left."
Tim brought the dressing-case in which our cash was deposited, and we found, that after paying the waiters, and a few small bills not yet liquidated, our whole stock was reduced to fifty shillings.
"Merciful Heaven! what an escape," cried Timothy; "if it had not been for this new supply, what should we have done?"
"Very badly, Timothy; but the money is well spent, after all. I have now entrance into the first circles. I can do without Major Carbonnell; at all events, I shall quit this hotel, and take furnished apartments, and live at the clubs. I know how to put him off."
I laid the money on the salver, and desired Timothy to ring for the landlord, when who should come up but the Major and Harcourt. "Why, Newland! what are you going to do with that money?" said the Major.
"I am paying my bill, Major."
"Paying your bill, indeed; let us see—£104. O this is a confounded imposition. You mustn't pay this." At this moment the landlord entered. "Mr Wallace," said the Major, "my friend Mr Newland was about, as you may see, to pay you the whole of your demand; but allow me to observe, that being my very particular friend, and the Piazza having been particularly recommended by me, I do think that your charges are somewhat exorbitant. I shall certainly advise Mr Newland to leave the house to-morrow, if you are not more reasonable."
"Allow me to observe, Major, that my reason for sending for my bill, was to pay it before I went into the country, which I must do to-morrow, for a few days."
"Then I shall certainly recommend Mr Newland not to come here when he returns, Mr Wallace, for I hold myself, to a certain degree, after the many dinners we have ordered here, and of which I have partaken, as I may say, particeps criminis, or in other words, as having been a party to this extortion. Indeed, Mr Wallace, some reduction must be made, or you will greatly hurt the credit of your house."
Mr Wallace declared, that really he had made nothing but the usual charges; that he would look over the bill again, and see what he could do.
"My dear Newland," said the Major, "I have ordered your dinners, allow me to settle your bill. Now, Mr Wallace, suppose we take off one-third?"
"One-third, Major Carbonnell! I should be a loser."
"I am not exactly of your opinion; but let me see—now take your choice. Take off £20, or you lose my patronage, and that of all my friends. Yes or no?"
The landlord, with some expostulation, at last consented, he receipted the bill, and leaving £20 of the money on the salver, made his bow, and retired.
"Rather fortunate that I supped in, my dear Newland; now there are £20 saved. By-the-bye, I'm short of cash. You've no objection to let me have this? I shall never pay you, you know."
"I do know you never will pay me, Major; nevertheless, as I should have paid it to the landlord had you not interfered, I will lend it to you."
"You are a good fellow, Newland," said the Major, pocketing the money. "If I had borrowed it, and you had thought you would have had it repaid, I should not have thanked you; but as you lend it me with your eyes open, it is nothing more than a very delicate manner of obliging me, and I tell you candidly, that I will not forget it. So you really are off to-morrow?"
"Yes," replied I, "I must go, for I find that I am not to make ducks and drakes of my money, until I come into possession of my property."
"I see, my dear fellow. Executors are the very devil; they have no feeling. Never mind; there's a way of getting to windward of them. I dine with Harcourt, and he has come to ask you to join us."
"With pleasure."
"I shall expect you at seven, Newland," said Harcourt, as he quitted the room with the Major.
"Dear me, sir, how could you let that gentleman walk off with your money?" cried Timothy. "I was just rubbing my hands with the idea that we were £20 better off than we thought, and away it went, like smoke."
"And will never come back again, Tim; but never mind that, it is important that I make a friend of him, and his friendship is only to be bought. I shall have value received. And now, Tim, we must pack up, for I leave this to-morrow morning. I shall go down to ——, and see little Fleta."
I dined with Harcourt. The Major was rather curious to know what it was which appeared to flurry Lord Windermear, and what had passed between us. I told him that his lordship was displeased on money matters, but that all was right, only that I must be more careful for the future. "Indeed, Major, I think I shall take lodgings. I shall be more comfortable, and better able to receive my friends."
Harcourt agreed with me, that it was a much better plan, when the Major observed, "Why, Newland, I have a room quite at your service; suppose you come and live with me?"
"I am afraid I shall not save by that," replied I, laughing, "for you will not pay your share of the bills."
"No, upon my honour I will not; so I give you fair warning; but as I always dine with you when I do not dine elsewhere, it will be a saving to you—for you will have your lodgings, Newland; and you know the house is my own, and I let off the rest of it; so as far as that bill is concerned, you will be safe."
"Make the best bargain you can, Newland," said Harcourt; "accept his offer, for depend upon it, it will be a saving in the end."
"It certainly deserves consideration," replied I; "and the Major's company must be allowed to have its due weight in the scale; if Carbonnell will promise to be a little more economical—"
"I will, my dear fellow—I will act as your steward, and make your money last as long as I can, for my own sake, as well as yours. Is it a bargain? I have plenty of room for your servant, and if he will assist me a little, I will discharge my own." I then consented to the arrangement.
The Major teaches me how to play Whist, so as never to lose, which is by playing against each other, and into each other's hands.
The next day I went to the banker's, drew out £150, and set off with Timothy for ——. Fleta threw herself into my arms, and sobbed with joy. When I told her Timothy was outside, and wished to see her, she asked why he did not come in; and, to show how much she had been accustomed to see, without making remarks, when he made his appearance in his livery, she did not, by her countenance, express the least surprise, nor, indeed, did she put any questions to me on the subject. The lady who kept the school praised her very much for docility and attention, and shortly after left the room. Fleta then took the chain from around her neck into her hand, and told me that she did recollect something about it, which was, that the lady whom she remembered, wore a long pair of ear-rings, of the same make and materials. She could not, however, call to mind anything else. I remained with the little girl for three hours, and then returned to London—taking my luggage from the hotel, and installed myself into the apartments of Major Carbonnell.
The Major adhered to his promise; we certainly lived well, for he could not live otherwise; but in every other point, he was very careful not to add to expense. The season was now over, and everybody of consequence quitted the metropolis. To remain in town would be to lose caste, and we had a conference where we should proceed.
"Newland," said the Major, "you have created a sensation this season, which has done great honour to my patronage; but I trust, next spring, that I shall see you form a good alliance; for, believe me, out of the many heartless beings we have mingled with, there are still not only daughters, but mothers, who are not influenced by base and sordid views."
"Why, Carbonnell, I never heard you venture upon so long a moral speech before."
"True, Newland, and it may be a long while before I do so again; the world is my oyster, which I must open, that I may live; but recollect, I am only trying to recover my own, which the world has swindled me out of. There was a time when I was even more disinterested, more confiding, and more innocent than you were when I first took you in hand. I suffered, and was ruined by my good qualities; and I now live and do well by having discarded them. We must fight the world with its own weapons; but still, as I said before, there is some good in it, some pure ore amongst the dross; and it is possible to find high rank and large fortune, and at the same time an innocent mind. If you do marry, I will try hard but you shall possess both; not that fortune can be of much consequence to you."
"Depend upon it, Carbonnell, I never will marry without fortune."
"I did not know that I had schooled you so well; be it so—it is but fair that you should expect it; and it shall be an item in the match, if I have anything to do with it."
"But why are you so anxious that I should marry, Carbonnell?"
"Because I think you will, in all probability, avoid the gaming-table, which I should have taken you to myself had you been in possession of your fortune when I first knew you, and have had my share of your plucking; but now I do know you, I have that affection for you that I think it better you should not lose your all; for observe, Newland, my share of your spoliation would not be more than what I have, and may still receive, from you; and if you marry and settle down, there will always be a good house and a good table for me, as long as I find favour with your wife; and, at all events, a friend in need, that I feel convinced of. So now you have my reasons; some smack of the disinterestedness of former days, others of my present worldliness; you may believe which you please." And the Major laughed as he finished his speech.
"Carbonnell," replied I, "I will believe that the better feelings predominate—that the world has made you what you are; and that had you not been ruined by the world, you would have been disinterested and generous; even now, your real nature often gains the ascendency, and I am sure that in all that you have done, which is not defensible, your poverty, and not your will, has consented. Now, blunted by habit and time, the suggestion of conscience do not often give you any uneasiness."
"You are very right, my dear fellow," replied the Major; "and in having a better opinion of me than the world in general, you do me, I trust, no more than justice. I will not squander your fortune, when you come to it, if I can help it; and you'll allow that's a very handsome promise on my part."
"I'll defy you to squander my fortune," replied I, laughing.
"Nay, don't defy me, Newland, for if you do, you'll put me on my mettle. Above all, don't lay me a bet, for that will be still more dangerous. We have only spent about four hundred of the thousand since we have lived together, which I consider highly economical. What do you say, shall we go to Cheltenham? You will find plenty of Irish girls, looking out for husbands, who will give you a warm reception."
"I hate your fortune and establishment hunters," replied I.
"I grant that they are looking out for a good match, so are all the world; but let me do them justice. Although, if you proposed, in three days they would accept you; yet once married, they make the very best wives in the world. But recollect we must go somewhere; and I think Cheltenham is as good a place as any other. I do not mean for a wife, but—it will suit my own views."
This last observation decided me, and in a few days we were at Cheltenham; and having made our appearance at the rooms, were soon in the vortex of society. "Newland," said Carbonnell, "I dare say you find time hang rather heavy in this monotonous place."
"Not at all," replied I; "what with dining out, dancing, and promenading, I do very well."
"But we must do better. Tell me, are you a good hand at whist?"
"Not by any means. Indeed, I hardly know the game."
"It is a fashionable and necessary accomplishment. I must make you master of it, and our mornings shall be dedicated to the work."
"Agreed," replied I; and from that day, every morning after breakfast till four o'clock, the Major and I were shut up, playing two dummies under his instruction. Adept as he was, I very soon learnt all the finesse and beauty of the game.
"You will do now, Newland," said the Major one morning, tossing the cards away. "Recollect, if you are asked to play, and I have agreed, do not refuse; but we must always play against each other."
"I don't see what we shall gain by that," replied I; "for if I win, you'll lose."
"Never do you mind that; only follow my injunctions, and play as high as they choose. We only stay here three weeks longer, and must make the most of our time."
I confess I was quite puzzled at what might be the major's intentions; but that night we sauntered into the club. Not having made our appearance before, we were considered as new hands by those who did not know the Major, and were immediately requested to make up a game. "Upon my word, gentlemen, in the first place, I play very badly," replied the Major; "and in the next," continued he, laughing, "if I lose, I never shall pay you, for I'm cleaned out."
The way in which the Major said this only excited a smile; he was not believed, and I was also requested to take a hand. "I'll not play with the Major," observed I, "for he plays badly, and has bad luck into the bargain; I might as well lay my money down on the table."
This was agreed to by the other parties, and we sat down. The first rubber of short whist was won by the Major and his partner; with the bets it amounted to eighteen pounds. I pulled out my purse to pay the Major; but he refused, saying, "No, Newland, pay my partner; and with you, sir," said he, addressing my partner, "I will allow the debt to remain until we rise from the table. Newland, we are not going to let you off yet, I can tell you."
I paid my eighteen pounds, and we recommenced. Although his partner did not perhaps observe it, for he was but an indifferent player, or if he did observe it, had the politeness not to say anything, the Major now played very badly. He lost three rubbers one after another, and, with bets and stakes, they amounted to one hundred and forty pounds. At the end of the last rubber he threw up the cards, exclaiming against his luck, and declaring that he would play no more. "How are we now, sir?" said he to my partner.
"You owed me, I think, eighteen pounds."
"Eighteen from one hundred and forty, leaves one hundred and twenty-two pounds, which I now owe you. You must, I'm afraid, allow me to be your debtor," continued the Major, in a most insinuating manner. "I did not come here with the intention of playing. I presume I shall find you here to-morrow night."
The gentleman bowed, and appeared quite satisfied. Major Carbonnell's partner paid me one hundred and forty pounds, which I put in my pocket-book, and we quitted the club.