"Yes," returned Chichester, opening the parcel and displaying its contents upon the table. "Here are the scratched dice, you see. These must be used upon a bare table, because it is necessary to judge by the sound of the dice in the box whether they are on the scratched side or not. You understand that a hole has been drilled in the centre pip of the five in this die, and in the ace of the other; a piece of ebony is then inserted, with a very small portion projecting. These dice cannot, therefore, fall perfectly flat, when the five side of the one and the ace of the other are underneath on the table; and it is very easy for the thrower just to move the box the least thing before he lifts it, to that the sound may tell him whether the scratched side is down or not. But you are to recollect that a man must be very drunk when you can use them with any degree of safety."
"I should think so, indeed," said Sir Rupert.
"I can assure you that no implements of our craft are, on certain occasions, more destructive than these," observed Chichester.
"And what is the use of these slight scratches upon the dice?"
"To assist the eye in manipulating them. But here," continued Chichester, holding up a dice-box, and surveying it with a species of paternal admiration,—"here is a famous antidote to fair dice. Don't you see that when fair dice are used, you must introduce an unfair box. Many a greenhorn may have heard of loaded dice, and so on; but very few know that there is such a thing as the Doctor Dice-box. Honour to the man, say I, who invented it. If you judge by the outside of this box, it is a very fair-looking one; but just put your finger into it, and you will feel that no less than three-quarters of the inside are filled up, so that there is now only just space enough left in the middle for the dice to fit in. Towards the top the sides grow larger and smoother. The dice, you see, rattle by rising up and down, when shaken briskly, but do not change their position. All that you have to do is to put them in, in the first instance, with a view to the way in which you want them to come up."
"So that if you want to throw a six and a five, put the dice into the box with the ace and the two uppermost," said the baronet.
"Precisely," answered Chichester. "A fair box, you know as well as I do, has one or more rims inside, against which the dice must turn in coming out."
"By the bye," said the baronet, "what is the Gradus, Chichester? you promised to show me a great many times, and have forgotten it; but now that we are upon the subject, you may as well enlighten me."
"Certainly, my dear fellow," returned this very complacent Mentor; then, taking up a pack of cards, he said, "nothing is more easy than the Gradus, or Step. It is often much safer than Bridging, too. Bridging is known by every snob about town who pretends to set up for a Greek. All that you have to do for the Gradus is to let any particular card you fancy project a little in this way, so as to make sure that your opponent will turn it up, at whist or ecarté, as the case may be."
"Excellent! I like the plan better than any other you ever yet showed me for effecting the same object."
"Palming may sometimes be done successfully," continued Chichester: "but you must have the small French cards to do it. There—all that there is to do is to secrete a particular card under the palm and partially up the sleeve till it is required. When your opponent is well primed, you can easily introduce a fifth king, or fifth ace, in this way. There is a great deal of art, too, in shuffling, or Weaving. At ecarté or whist, always watch which tricks taken up have the best cards; then, when you take up all the cards to shuffle them again, weave in the good tricks to suit your purposes."
"I heard a gentleman say the other night," observed the baronet, "that he had been most gloriously fleeced by a fellow who used pricked cards."
"Ah! they are capital weapons," exclaimed Chichester. "Just lay the high cards flat on their backs, and then prick them with a very fine needle, so as to raise the slightest possible pimple in the world upon the backs down in one of the corners; but mind, the cards are not to be punctured quite through. The fellow who told me how to do this dodge, used some chemical preparation to the ball of his thumb, which made that part almost raw, and consequently so very sensitive that he could feel the smallest possible pimple on the card with the greatest ease."
"And what have you got there?" demanded Sir Rupert, pointing to a pack of cards which Chichester had just taken from his parcel.
"These are Reflectors," replied the Mentor. "They are French cards, you perceive, and are only manufactured in France. They cost two guineas a pack; but then—only think of their utility! Look at the backs of these cards: instead of being plain, they are figured. Now this to a common observer is nothing, most of the French cards being, you know, variegated with flowers or other designs at the back. But to the initiated, the lines upon these cards are every thing. Mark how they run. All the high cards have semicircles in the corners, while all the low cards have the ends of the lines meeting in the corners. Then, by a more minute study still of these cards, it is easy to know kings, queens, knaves, and aces, by the manner in which the lines run upon the back. I hope these weapons are dangerous enough for you."
"They are decidedly the most efficient I have yet seen," answered the baronet. "I think we now know all the mysteries of the gaming world; and, considering how many flats there are in London and the watering places, it would be astonishing indeed if we could not pick up a handsome living."
"Of course it would," said Mr. Chichester. "The mania for play is most extraordinary. The moment a young man enters upon life, he fancies that it is very fine to frequent gambling-houses or lose his loose gold at private play: indeed he imagines that he cannot be a man of the world without it. There is our advantage. That anxiety to be looked upon as a fine dashing fellow is the real cause of the immense increase of gaming propensities. Young men do not begin to play in the first instance because they like it: they commence, simply to gratify their vanity; and then they imbibe the taste and acquire the habit. What they began through pride, they continue through love. There, again, I say, is our pull:—there always will be flats ready to throw themselves head and shoulders into the nets that sharps spread out for them."
"All that is very true, Chichester," said the baronet. "But we don't want a homily on the vice of gambling this afternoon: what we require is the needful to enable us to put our plans into execution. The old tricks that you taught me more than three years ago in that very respectable lodging which you occupied in Bartholomew Close, are well-nigh worn out: we have now studied fresh ones;—but we are totally deficient in the steam to set our new engines in motion."
Chichester was about to reply when a carriage drove up to the front door, and Mr. Greenwood alighted.
"Well—it is all right!" exclaimed Mr. Greenwood, the moment he entered the drawing-room, his countenance radiant with joy, and his eyes expressive of triumph.
"What is all right?" demanded both the baronet and Chichester in the same breath.
"Why—have you not heard that the election for Rottenborough took place yesterday?" said Greenwood.
"Oh! to be sure—I forgot that!" observed the baronet. "But you surely never have beaten Lord Tremordyn's candidate?"
"Yes—I was returned triumphantly—814 against 102," said Greenwood.
"I wish you joy, my dear fellow," exclaimed Chichester. "I suppose you astonished the natives of Rottenborough? but how the devil did you manage this victory?"
"I will give you a brief sketch of the whole proceeding," said Greenwood, throwing himself upon the sofa, and playing with his elegant guard-chain. "The fact is, I learnt in the latter part of December that the representative of Rottenborough intended to accept the Chiltern Hundreds when the Houses met in February. You know that I was at that time very intimate with Lord Tremordyn, your worthy and much revered father-in-law, Sir Rupert——"
"Ah! worthy, indeed!" ejaculated the baronet impatiently.
"I accordingly spoke to Lord Tremordyn," continued Greenwood; "and, after a little delicate manœuvring, received his promise to support me,—in fact, to get me in for Rottenborough. It had been arranged that Count Alteroni and his family were to pass the month of January and a portion of February with Lord and Lady Tremordyn; but in the mean time, the count learned something about me, as I before told you, which he did not like; and he rejected me as a suitor for his daughter's hand. That did not grieve me much. My only motives for making up to the signora at all were, because I really liked the girl, and because she is a nobleman's daughter. But the count did not stop there. He sent an apology to Lord and Lady Tremordyn, and declined the invitation. Off goes his lordship to Richmond, and calls upon the count. The count spoke so ill of me, it appears, that his lordship determined to cut me. There seemed at first an insurmountable obstacle to my hopes relative to Rottenborough."
"Yes—but you are never dismayed at any thing," said Chichester.
"Never. There is no such word as impossible in my vocabulary," returned Greenwood; "and as for improbable—that is a word which can only intimidate cowards. I made up my mind to exert all my energies to obtain the gratification of my wishes. I had set my mind upon becoming an M.P. I had dreamt of it—thought upon it for hours together—and had even based certain calculations and schemes upon the event. I was not to be disappointed. I immediately went down to Rottenborough, and put up at the principal inn. I looked about me for a day or two, and at length saw something that suited me—an old mansion in such a ruined and dilapidated state, that it would require three or four thousand pounds to restore it to a habitable and comfortable condition. It belonged to the banker of the place. I bought it without haggling, and thus made a friend of him. I then set all the masons, carpenters, decorators, and upholsterers in the place to work, paid a considerable sum into the banker's hands, and appointed the head solicitor in the town to be my agent. I moreover gave him certain secret instructions relative to my ultimate views, and returned to London. Every Saturday I went down to Rottenborough—it is only twenty-four miles from London, you know—and paid all the bills without demanding discount. I also sent fifty pounds to the clergyman of the parish to lay out in purchasing blankets for the poor; and paid the coal merchant for fifty tons of coals also for charitable distribution. I always remained at Rottenborough until Monday mornings, and went to church three times on the Sundays. No one spoke the responses louder than I did—no one dwelt with such holy delight upon the clergyman's sermons as myself. I moreover won the hearts of the churchwardens, by placing a ten-pound note in the plate, after a charity sermon; and I secured the overseer by visiting the workhouse with him, tasting the soup, and pronouncing the dietary-scale to amount to absolute luxuries. In this manner, I was soon talked about. 'Who is this Mr. Greenwood?' was the universal question. 'A wealthy capitalist of London,' answered the lawyer. Thus, every thing progressed well."
"So I should imagine," observed the baronet.
"Well—parliament met—the representative of Rottenborough resigned his seat; and the next morning by eight o'clock, my lawyer-agent had secured every inn, tavern, and public-house in Rottenborough in my name. Placards were posted all over the town, announcing my intention to come forward in the liberal interest, Lord Tremordyn having always supported the opposite side. Down goes Lord Tremordyn with his candidate, and is quite astonished to see all the walls and houses covered with posters, on which the name of Greenwood appeared in monster-type. But if he were surprised at first, how much more was he compelled to marvel, and how deeply was he annoyed, when not an inn—not a tavern—not even a public-house, would receive him, or his horses. His lordship drove to the rector's. The parson 'was excessively glad to see his lordship, and hoped his lordship would make his (the rector's) house his home; but he (the rector) could not think of entertaining the Conservative candidate also, as he had promised his vote to a gentleman who intended to settle in the place, and who had already done a vast amount of good there.' Lord Tremordyn was astounded. He went to the banker's. Precisely the same answer. The brewer, the coal-merchant, the Chairman of the Board of Poor Law Guardians (who had heard that I admired the soup and considered gruel at nineteen out of twenty-one meals every week, to be actually encouraging in the poor a taste for luxuries) all spoke well of me. Lord Tremordyn grew livid with rage; and he was compelled to take up his quarters, with the new candidate, at the house of the undertaker, whose services I had neglected to secure, not having known upon what possible pretence to order a few coffins."
"Capital!" ejaculated Sir Rupert: "I am glad the old lord was taken in at last—he who fancied himself omnipotent at Rottenborough."
"Every engine of Tory tactics was now put into execution by Lord Tremordyn, his candidate, and his agents. All his tenants who had not paid up their arrears of rent, were menaced with executions and ejectments if they did not vote for the Conservative. My lawyer knew how to counteract this influence. He found out all the tenants who were in arrears, and proffered them loans payable at very distant dates. This accommodation was gladly accepted; and they were of course given to understand that the assistance emanated from me. 'At the same time,' said my lawyer, 'you must not think that this is a mere electioneering manœuvre to secure your support. No—remain free and independent electors. Mr. Greenwood's wishes and objects were merely to defeat tyranny and annihilate intimidation.' In this way we completely weaned his own tenants away from Lord Tremordyn and his cause."
"All this must have cost you a great deal of money," said Chichester.
"Not near so much as you would fancy. But, whatever it was, it was well spent. The position of an M.P. to me is worth thousands and thousands:—I know how to avail myself of it."
"I wish I had your head, Greenwood," exclaimed Sir Rupert Harborough, with a sigh.
"My dear baronet, if you had my head and lacked my perseverance, my industry, and my power of self-command, you would be but little benefited. Let me, however, continue my narrative of the electioneering proceedings. There was now nothing but placarding and counter-placarding. My canvassers were most eloquent in my cause. 'Do not look,' said they, 'to whether a man be Whig or Tory—Radical or Conservative: ascertain whether he will benefit the town—whether he will be charitable to the poor, will support the tradesmen, and will dwell during the recess amongst the inhabitants of Rottenborough. What good have the candidates of the Tremordyn interest ever done for ye, O Rottenboroughers? Has the present candidate an account at the banker's? has he given away blankets and coals wholesale? has he come regularly on Sunday to attend divine service in our parish church three times? has he employed the greater portion of the tradesmen of the town? No—he appears amongst you as a stranger—making fine promises, but having given an earnest of nothing. Look at Greenwood—a man of enormous wealth—known probity—vast experience—high character—splendid qualifications—unlimited charity—and undoubted piety.'"
"I suppose you wrote out all that for your canvassers?" said Chichester.
"No: my lawyer copied a character for me out of an old romance; and it seemed to be admirably appreciated. At length the eventful day—yesterday—came. You may depend upon it, I was up early. My band and colours commenced parading about the town at seven o'clock; and my lawyer had very prudently hired the clown and pantaloon of Richardson's Theatre to attend the band, and amuse the people with their antics during the intervals between the different airs. This told wonderfully well, and, as I afterwards learnt, won thirty-three votes away from Lord Tremordyn's candidate."
"A fact which speaks volumes in favour of the intellectual qualifications of the people of Rottenborough," observed the baronet.
"But the beauty of it was," continued Greenwood, "that my lawyer had the clown in the Guildhall, when my opponent addressed the electors; and the fellow imitated the gesticulations and the facial contortions of Lord Tremordyn's candidate so well, that the speech was drowned in roars of laughter."
"And I suppose that your speech was listened to with the greatest attention?" said Chichester.
"The very greatest," returned Greenwood; "and I can assure you that I pitched them the gammon in the very finest possible style. 'Gentlemen,' I said, 'it is well known that not a single town in this empire contains a more enlightened, intellectual, and independent population than Rottenborough. The inhabitants of Rottenborough are the envy of surrounding cities, and the admiration of the universe. History has ever been busy with the name of Rottenborough; and never has a gallant Rottenborougher disgraced his name, his country, or his cause. This is the chosen home of freedom: if you seek for independence, you will find it in the peaceful groves and delicious retreats of Rottenborough. Famous also is this town for the loveliness and virtue of its women; and beauteous and faithful wives make their husbands and sons good and great. Oh! supremely blessed is the town of Rottenborough, situate in its happy valley, and through whose streets sweep balmy gales, laden with perfume and delicious odour.'—At this moment, the voice of some purblind Tory exclaimed, 'What do you say to the putrid black ditch at the back of the church?' Of course one of my own supporters smashed this ruffian's hat over his eyes; and I then proceeded thus: 'Gentlemen, free and independent electors of Rottenborough! I offer myself as your representative! I throw myself into your arms! I undertake your cause! Tory influence has long blunted your energies: Tory machinations have for years dimmed the bright and brilliant intellects of the Rottenboroughers. Do you ask me what are my principles? I will tell you. I am a liberal in every sense of the word. I am anxious that every free and independent elector of Rottenborough shall have his beef and beer for nothing—which shall be the case to-morrow, if I am returned to-day. I am desirous that the industrious classes should be improved in condition—that they should have more food and less treadmill, and be supplied with flannel to expel the bleak and nipping cold of winter. This want it shall be my duty to supply. But that is not all: I hope to see the day arrive when every pauper in the workhouse at Rottenborough shall thank God for his happy condition, and receive an extra half ounce of bacon for the dinner of the Sabbath! These are my fond aspirations—these are my aims! If I seem to promise much—I am ready to perform it all. Trust me—try me—place me in a condition to be useful to you. I have now expounded to you all my views—I have laid bare my secret soul to your eyes; and heaven can attest the sincerity of my intentions. Under these circumstances I confidently claim your suffrage;—but if it should happen that I am disappointed—if I am forced to shut up the mansion which I have purchased in this neighbourhood, suspend all the works, and fly for ever from the peaceful retreats and delicious haunts of Rottenborough, I shall at least——.' Here it was arranged between my lawyer and me that my voice was to falter and that I should seem as if I was about to faint. I accordingly wound up the farce with a little bit of melodrama: and from that instant the cause of my opponent was desperate beyond all chances of redemption."
"You deserved success, after that brilliant speech;" said Chichester, laughing heartily at this narrative.
"The polling was continued briskly until four o'clock, when the mayor closed the books and announced that George Greenwood, Esquire, Gentleman, was duly returned to serve in Parliament as the representative of Rottenborough."
"When shall you 'take your oaths and your seat,' as the papers say?" demanded Chichester.
"This evening," answered Greenwood.
"And of course you will range yourself amongst the liberals?"
"How can you fancy that I shall be guilty of such egregious folly?" cried the new Member of Parliament. "The reign of the Liberals is drawing to a close: a Tory administration within a year or eighteen months is inevitable."
"But you stood forward as a Liberal, and were returned as such."
"Very true—very true, my dear fellow. But do you imagine that I became a Member of Parliament to meet the interests and wishes of a pack of strangers, or to suit my own?"
"And at the next election——"
"I shall be returned again. Mark my word for that. A politician is not worth a fig who has not a dozen excuses ready for the most flagrant tergiversation; and money—money will purchase all the free and independent electors of Rottenborough."
Lady Cecilia Harborough returned to the drawing-room at this moment. She scarcely noticed Chichester—who was "her aversion"—but welcomed Greenwood in the most cordial manner. The baronet observed "that he should leave Mr. Greenwood to amuse Lady Cecilia with an account of his electioneering exploits;" and then withdrew, accompanied by his "shadow" Mr. Chichester.
"You have succeeded, George?" said Lady Cecilia, the moment they were alone together.
"To my heart's content, dearest Cecilia," answered Greenwood, placing his arm around the delicate waist of the frail fair one, and drawing her close to him as they stood before the fire.
"I am delighted with this result," said Lady Cecilia; "although my own father has sustained a defeat in the person of his candidate."
"All fair in the political world, dear Cecilia," replied the new Member of Parliament. "But you have not yet appeared to understand that I came hither the moment I returned from Rottenborough,—to bear to you, first and foremost, the news of my success."
"Ah! dearest George, how can I ever sufficiently testify my gratitude to thee for all thy proofs of ardent love?" whispered Lady Cecilia, in a soft and melting tone.
"Yes—I love you—I love you well," answered Greenwood, who in a moment of tenderness declared with the lips far more than he really felt with the heart;—and he imprinted a thousand kisses upon her month, her cheeks, and her brow.
She returned them, while her countenance glowed with a deep crimson dye;—but neither the kisses nor the blushes were those of a pure and sacred affection; they were the offspring of a licentious and illicit flame.
A slight noise in the room startled the guilty pair.
They hastily withdrew from each other's embrace, and glanced around.
Mr. Chichester was advancing towards the table in the middle of the apartment.
Lady Cecilia uttered a faint cry, and sank upon the sofa.
"I beg you a thousand pardons," said Chichester, affecting the utmost indifference of manner; "but I had left this parcel behind me;"—— and, taking up the small package containing his dice and cards, he withdrew.
"Merciful heavens!" ejaculated Lady Cecilia: "we are discovered—we are betrayed! That wretch will ruin us!"
"Do not fear—do not alarm yourself, sweetest lady," returned Greenwood: "I will undertake to stop that man's mouth! One moment—and I return."
He hurried after Mr. Chichester, whom he overtook half-way down the stairs.
"Chichester, one word with you," said Greenwood.
"A dozen, if you like, my dear fellow."
"You came into the drawing-room a minute ago—unexpectedly——"
"And I apologised for my rudeness."
"Yes—but you are not the less possessed of a secret which involves the honour of a lady—the happiness of an entire family——"
"Greenwood, I am a man of the world: you can rely upon me," interrupted Chichester. "Fear nothing on that score. You have now asked your favour, and obtained it of me: let me request one of you."
"Command me in any way you choose."
"I am at this moment embarrassed for a hundred pounds or so——"
"Say no more: they are yours," returned Greenwood; and he forthwith handed a bank-note for the amount mentioned, to Mr. Chichester.
"Thank you," said that individual; and he hastened to rejoin the baronet, who was waiting for him in the square.
"Well—have you found your implements?" said Sir Rupert, as he took his friend's arm.
"Yes—and a hundred pounds into the bargain," returned Chichester, drily.
"A hundred pounds! Impossible!"
"There is the bank-note. It is just what we required."
"But how——"
"Greenwood was coming down stairs, and I mustered up courage to ask him for a loan. He complied without a moment's hesitation. Indeed," added Chichester, with a sneer, "I almost think that I shall be enabled, in case of emergency, to obtain another supply from the same quarter."
"This is fortunate—most fortunate!" exclaimed Harborough. "Let us go and dine at Long's or Stephen's this evening, and see if we can pick up a flat."
HAVING reassured Lady Cecilia Harborough relative to the alarm inspired by the intrusion of Chichester at so critical a moment, Mr. Greenwood returned to his own residence in Spring Gardens.
"Any one called, Lafleur?" he said to his favourite valet, as he ascended to his study.
"Two gentlemen; sir. Their cards are upon your desk. They both declared that they would call again to day."
Mr. Greenwood hastened to inspect the cards of his two visitors. One contained the following name and address:—
The Hon. V. W. Y. Sawder, M.P.
Reform-Club.
The other presented the annexed superscription to view:—
Sir T. M. B. Muzzlehem, Bart., M.P.
Carlton-Club.
"Ah! ha!" exclaimed Mr. Greenwood, chuckling audibly: "I understand what this means! Already at work, eh? No time to be lost, I see." Then turning towards Lafleur, he added, "You see, my good fellow, that when a man like me—a man of—of—consideration, in a word—becomes entrusted with the interests of a free, enlightened, and independent constituency, like that of Rottenborough, the Ministerial party and the Opposition each endeavour to secure me to their cause—you understand, Lafleur—eh?"
"Perfectly, sir," answered the imperturbable valet, with his usual bow.
"Well, then, Lafleur," continued Mr. Greenwood, "you must know farther that each party has its whipper-in. The whippers-in keep lists of those who belong respectively to their own parties, and collect them together when their support is absolutely necessary on a division of the House. In fact, the whippers-in are the huntsmen of the pack: and the members all collect at the sound of their bugles. Do you comprehend, Lafleur?"
"Yes, sir—thank you, sir."
"I must therefore see both these gentlemen—but separately, mind. If they should happen to call at the same time, show one into the drawing-room while I receive the other here."
"And now, Lafleur," proceeded Mr. Greenwood, "while we are upon the subject, I may as well give you a few instructions relative to that deportment which my altered position renders necessary."
Lafleur bowed.
"Placed in a situation of high responsibility and trust, by the confidence of an intelligent and enlightened constituency," resumed Mr. Greenwood, "I am bound to maintain a position which may inspire respect and confidence. In the first place, as it cannot be supposed that I shall receive many epistolary communications until my opinions upon particular measures and questions become known through my parliamentary conduct,—and as, at the same time, it would be disgraceful for the neighbourhood to imagine that my correspondence is limited, you must take care that the two-penny postman never passes my door without leaving a letter."
"Yes, sir. I will have a letter, addressed to you, posted every two hours, sir, so that you cannot fail to receive one by each delivery."
"Good, Lafleur; and you can tell the postman," added Mr. Greenwood, "to knock louder than he has been in the habit of doing——"
"Yes, sir; because it is difficult to hear from the servants' offices."
"Precisely, Lafleur. And you can tell our newsman to bring me all the second editions of the newspapers whenever there are any; and mind you always keep the news-boy waiting a long time at the door. Tell him, moreover, to bawl out 'second edition' of whatever paper it may be, as loud as he can."
"I will take care he shall do so, sir," answered Lafleur.
"And once a week, or so," proceeded Greenwood, after a pause, "let an express-courier gallop at full speed up to the house, and ring and knock furiously until the door is opened. But, mind that he comes from at least three or four miles distant, so that his horse may be covered with foam, and himself with mud or dust, according to the state of the weather."
"I understand, sir."
"Moreover, Lafleur, at least three or four times a week, go to Leadenhall Market and purchase the game and poultry which we may require for the house, and send it home by the London Parcels Delivery Company, so that the neighbours may say, 'More presents for Mr. Greenwood. Dear me! how popular he must be with his constituents!'"
"I fully comprehend, sir."
"You can send fish home, too,—and haunches of venison in the same manner," continued the new Member of Parliament; "but mind that the feathers of the pheasants, the tails of the fish, and the feet of the haunches always hang out of the baskets in which they are packed."
"Oh! certainly, sir."
"If you could possibly get a charity-school to wait upon me some morning, to solicit me to become a patron, or any thing of that sort, it would do good, and I should make a handsome donation to the funds."
"That can be managed, sir. I can safely promise that seventy boys and ninety girls shall wait upon you in procession any day you choose to appoint."
"Well and good, Lafleur. And mind that they are kept standing for three quarters of an hour in the street before they are admitted."
"As a matter of course, sir."
"And now I will just mention a few things," continued Mr. Greenwood, "that you most manage with very great nicety. Indeed, I know I can rely upon you in every thing."
Lafleur bowed.
"You must turn away all Italian organ-players. The moment one shows himself under our windows, let one of the footmen rush out and order him off. It is not proper to encourage such vagabonds: the aristocracy don't like them."
"Certainly not, sir."
"Organ-playing is a thing I am determined to put an end to. There is also the hoop nuisance. Give any boy into charge, whatever may be his age, who is caught trundling a hoop in Spring Gardens. That is another thing I am resolved to put an end to. Ballad-singers and broom-girls you will of course have taken into custody without hesitation. In fact you had better give the policeman upon the beat general instructions upon this head; and you can slip a guinea into his hand at the same time."
"Very good, sir."
"At the same time we must be charitable, Lafleur—we must be charitable."
"Decidedly, sir."
"You must find out some decent woman with half a dozen children, to whom the broken victuals can be given every day at about three o'clock, when there are plenty of people in the street;—a woman who does not exactly want the food, but who will not refuse it. The respectability of her appearance will be set down to my benevolence, Lafleur; and she must be careful always to come with her children. By these means we shall gain the reputation of being judiciously particular in respect to vagabonds and impostors, but charitable in the extreme to the deserving poor."
"Just so, sir."
"One word more, Lafleur. When any person calls whom you know I do not want to see, say, 'Mr. Greenwood is engaged with a deputation from his constituents;' or else, 'Mr. Greenwood has just received very important dispatches, and cannot be disturbed;'—or, again, 'Mr. Greenwood has just stepped down as far as the Home Office.' You fully comprehend."
"Perfectly, sir."
"Then you may retire, Lafleur. But—by the bye—Lafleur!"
"Yes, sir?"
"I shall add twenty guineas a year to your wages from this date, Lafleur," said Mr. Greenwood.
"Thank you, sir," answered the valet; and, with a low bow, he retired.
"Another step gained in the ladder of ambition!" said Greenwood to himself, when he was alone. "A Member of Parliament—and in spite of Lord Tremordyn! ha! ha! ha! In spite of Lord Tremordyn! Oh most intelligent and independent electors of Rottenborough: I bought your suffrages with gold, with fine words, with clowns and mountebanks, and with pots of beer! Free and enlightened electors! ha! ha! I shall turn against the very interest in which I was elected; but if my constituents grumble, I will silence them with more gold;—if they reproach, I will use all the sophistry of which language is capable—and that is not a little;—if they repine, I will win them back to good humour with fresh sights, and buffoons, and galas;—if they grow dry with talking against me, I will have whole pipes of wine and butts of beer broached in their streets! Yes—I must join the Tory interest: I see that it is now upon the rise. And yet I know—I feel in my heart—I have the conviction that the popular cause is the true one, the just one. But what of that? I stood forward as a candidate to suit myself, and not for the sake of the free and independent electors of Rottenborough! Yes, all goes well with me! An occasional annoyance—such as my failure in obtaining possession of the person of Eliza Sydney, and of the hand of Isabella, the lovely Italian—cannot be avoided;—but in all great points—in all my important views, I am successful! And yet, Isabella—Isabella! Upon her the eye that is wearied with the contemplation of the rude and discordant scenes of life, could rest—could rest with unfeigned, with ineffable delight! O Isabella, there are times when thine image comes before me, like the vision of a holy and chaste Madonna to the sleep-bound mind of the pious Catholic;—and there have been solitary hours in which the whole earth has seemed to me to be covered with flowers beneath the sweet sunlight of thine eyes! And yet—who knows? The day may come when even thou shalt be mine! I longed to languish in the arms of Diana Arlington;—and I had my wish. I coveted the patrician loveliness of Cecilia Harborough;—and, behold! my wealth purchased it. I sought for change; and accident—a strange accident—surrendered to my embraces another—yes, another—whom I have never seen since that day—now more than two months ago,—but who, I have since learnt through the medium of my faithful Lafleur, dwells in the same house with—"
Mr. Greenwood's reverie was interrupted by the entrance of his valet, who introduced the Honourable Mr. Sawder into the study. The new Member of Parliament received the Whig whipper-in with his usual courtesy of manner; and, when they were both seated, Mr. Sawder felicitated Mr. Greenwood upon the successful result of the Rottenborough election.
"The liberal cause triumphed most signally," said Mr. Sawder: "the result was hailed with enthusiasm at the Reform Club, I can assure you."
"I have no doubt," answered Mr. Greenwood, already adopting the method of evasion so much in vogue amongst diplomatic and political circles,—"I have no doubt that every true lover of his country must be rejoiced at the victory achieved by straightforward conduct over the system of bribery, intimidation, and corruption practised by the nominee of Lord Tremordyn and his agents."
"Oh! certainly—certainly," returned Mr. Sawder. "The object of my present visit is to ascertain whether you will permit me to introduce you to the House this evening?"
"It is my intention to take the oaths and my seat this evening," answered Mr. Greenwood.
"And my services as chaperon—"
"You really confer a great honour upon me."
"Then I may consider that you accept—"
"My dear sir, how can I sufficiently thank you for this kind interest which you take in my behalf?"
"Pray do not mention it, Mr. Greenwood."
"No, Mr. Sawder, I will not allude to it; since it is the more to be appreciated, inasmuch as I never had the pleasure of being known to you previous to this occasion."
"I am therefore to understand," said the whipper-in, who could not precisely fathom the new member through the depths of these ambiguous phrases, "that you will allow me the honour of introducing you—"
"The honour, my dear sir, would be with me," observed Mr. Greenwood, with a gracious bow.
"At what hour, then, will you be prepared—"
"My time shall henceforth always be devoted to the interests of my constituents."
"A very noble sentiment, my dear Mr. Greenwood," said the whipper-in. "Shall we then fix the ceremony for five o'clock?"
"Five o'clock is an excellent hour, Mr. Sawder—an excellent hour. I know no hour that I like more than five o'clock," exclaimed Mr. Greenwood.
"Be it five, then," said the whipper-in. "And now, relative to the Reform club—when will it please you to be proposed a member?"
"It will please me, my dear sir, at any time, to join that fraternity of honourable gentlemen with whom I shall in future co-operate."
"Well and good, my dear sir," said Mr. Sawder; and he slowly and reluctantly took his leave, not knowing what to make of the new member for Rottenborough, nor whether to calculate upon his adhesion to the Whig cause, or not.
Scarcely had the Honourable Mr. V. W. Y. Sawder, M. P., driven away in his beautiful cabriolet from Mr. Greenwood's door, when Sir T. M. B. Muzzlehem, Bart., M. P. arrived in his brougham at the same point. But if Mr. Greenwood were evasive and ambiguous to the Whig whipper-in, he was clear and lucid to the Tory one.
Sir T. Muzzlehem began by felicitating him upon his election, and in a verbose harangue, expressed his hopes that Mr. Greenwood would support that cause "the object of which was to maintain the glorious old constitution inviolate, and uphold the Established Church in its unity and integrity."
"Those are precisely my intentions," said Mr. Greenwood.
"I am delighted to hear you say so, my dear sir," resumed the Tory whipper-in; "but I have one deep cause of uneasiness, which is that you may not entertain precisely the same views of what is necessary to maintain these honourable and ancient institutions, as the men who would gladly lay down their lives to benefit their country."
"I believe, Sir Thomas Muzzlehem," answered Mr. Greenwood, "that I shall act according to the wishes of my constituents, the dictates of my own conscience, and the views of the illustrious men of whom you speak."
"In which case, my dear Mr. Greenwood, I am of course to understand that you will be one of us—one of the true defenders of the Throne, the Constitution, and the Church—"
"In other words, a Conservative," added Mr. Greenwood.
"Bravo!" ejaculated the whipper-in, unable to conceal his joy at this unexpected result of a visit whose object he had at first deemed certain of defeat: then, shaking Mr. Greenwood heartily by the hand, he said, "At what hour shall I have the pleasure of introducing you this evening?"
"At a quarter to five precisely," replied Mr. Greenwood.
"And of course you will become a member of the Carlton?" added the whipper-in.
"Of course—whenever you choose—as early as possible," said Mr. Greenwood.
Sir Thomas Muzzlehem again wrung the hand of the new member, and then took his leave.
The moment he had departed, Lafleur repaired to the study, and said, "A lady, sir, is waiting to see you in the drawing-room."
"A lady!" ejaculated Mr. Greenwood: "who is she?"
"I do not know, sir. She refused to give me her name; and I have never seen her before."
"How did she come?"
"On foot, sir. She is neatly, but plainly dressed; and yet her manners seem to indicate that she is a lady."
"Strange! who can she be?" murmured Greenwood, as he hastened to the drawing-room.
UPON the sofa in Mr. Greenwood's elegantly-furnished drawing-room was seated the young lady who so anxiously sought an interview with the owner of that princely mansion.
Her face was very pale: a profound melancholy reigned upon her countenance, and was even discernible in her drooping attitude; her eyes expressed a sorrow bordering upon anguish; and yet, through that veil of dark foreboding, the acute observer might have seen a ray—a feeble ray of hope gleaming faintly, so faintly, that it appeared a flickering lamp burning at the end of a long and gloomy cavern.
Her elbow rested upon one end of the sofa, and her forehead was supported upon her hand, when Greenwood entered the room.
The doors of that luxurious dwelling moved so noiselessly upon their hinges, and the carpets spread upon the floors were so thick, that not a sound, either of door or footstep, announced to that pale and mournful girl the approach of the man whom she so deeply longed to see.
He was close by her ere she was aware of his presence.
With a start, she raised her head, and gazed steadfastly up into his countenance; but her tongue clave to the roof of her mouth, and refused utterance to the name which she would have spoken.
"Ellen!" ejaculated Greenwood, as his eyes met hers.—"what has brought you hither?"
"Can you not imagine it possible that I should wish to see you again?" answered Miss Monroe—for she was Mr. Greenwood's visitor upon the present occasion.
"But why so much mystery, Ellen? why refuse to give the servant your name? why adopt a course which cannot fail to render your visit a matter of suspicion to my household?" said Greenwood, somewhat impatiently.
"Forgive me—forgive me, if I have done wrong," exclaimed Ellen, the tears gushing to her eyes. "Alas! misfortunes have rendered me so suspicious of human nature, that I feared—I feared lest you should refuse to see me—that you would consider me importunate—"
"Well—well, Ellen: do not cry—that is foolish! I am not angry now; so cheer up, and tell me in what I can serve thee?"
As Greenwood uttered these words, he seated himself upon the sofa by the side of the young lady, and took her hand. We cannot say that her tears had moved him—for his was a heart that was moved by nothing regarding another: but she had looked pretty as she wept, and as her eyes glanced through their tears towards him; and the apparent kindness of his manner was the mechanical impulse of the libertine.
"Oh! if you would only smile thus upon me—now and then—" murmured Ellen, gazing tenderly upon him,—"how much of the sorrow of this life would disappear from before my eyes."
"How can one gifted with such charms as you be unhappy?" exclaimed Greenwood.
"What! do you imagine that beauty constitutes felicity?" cried Ellen, in an impassioned tone. "Are not the loveliest flowers exposed to the nipping frosts, as well as the rank and poisonous weeds? Do not clouds obscure the brightest stars, as well as those of a pale and sickly lustre? You ask me if I can be unhappy? Alas! it is now long—long since I knew what perfect happiness was! I need not tell you—you—how my father's fortune was swept away;—but I may detail to you the miseries which the loss of it raised up around him and me—and chiefly me!"
"But why dwell upon so sad a theme, Ellen? Did you come hither to divert me with a narrative of sorrows which must now be past, since—according to what I have heard—your father and yourself have found an asylum—"
"At Markham Place!" added Miss Monroe, emphatically. "Yes—we have found an asylum there—there, in the house of the individual whom my father's speculations and your agency—"
"Speak not of that—speak not of that, I conjure you!" hastily exclaimed Greenwood. "Tell me Ellen—tell me, you have not breathed a word to your father, nor to that young man—"
"No—not for worlds!" cried Ellen, with a shudder: then, after a pause, during which she appeared to reflect deeply, she said, "But you ask me why I wish to narrate to you the history of all the miseries I have endured for two long years, and upwards: you demand of me why I would dwell upon so sad a theme. I will tell you presently. You shall hear me first. But pray, be not impatient: I shall not detain you long;—and, surely—surely, you can spare an hour to one who is so very—very miserable."
"Speak, Ellen—speak!"
"The loss of our fortune plunged us into the most frightful poverty. We were not let down gradually from affluence to penury;—but we fell—as one falls from a height—abruptly, suddenly, and precipitately into the depths of want and starvation. The tree of our happiness lost not its foliage leaf by leaf: it was blighted in an hour. This made the sting so much more sharp—the heavy weight of misfortune so much less tolerable. Nevertheless, I worked, and worked with my needle until my energies were wasted, my eyes grew dim, and my health was sinking fast. Oh! my God, I only asked for work;—and yet, at length, I lost even that resource! Then commenced a strange kind of life for me."
"A strange kind of life, Ellen—what mean you?" exclaimed Greenwood, now interested in the recital.
"I sold myself in detail," answered Ellen, in a tone of the deepest and most touching melancholy.
"I cannot understand you," cried Greenwood. "Surely—surely your mind is not wandering!"
"No: all I tell you is unhappily too true," returned the poor girl, shaking her head; then, as if suddenly recollecting herself, she started from her thoughtful mood, and said, "You have a plaster of Paris image as large as life, in the window of your staircase?"
"Yes—it is a Diana, and holds a lamp which is lighted at night," observed Greenwood. "But what means that strange question—so irrelevant to the subject of our discourse?"
"More—more than you can imagine," answered Ellen, bitterly. "That statue explains one phase in my chequered life;"—then, sinking her tone almost to a whisper, grasping Greenwood's hand convulsively, and regarding him fixedly in the countenance, while her own eyes were suddenly lighted up with a strange wildness of expression, she added, "The face of your beautiful Diana is my own!"