The Adventures of Philip

his dreary aunt or either of his supercilious cousins!" Upon my word, when this

  lady did speak her mind, there was no mistaking her meaning.

  I believe Mr. Firmin took a considerable number of people into his confidence

  regarding this love affair. He is one of those individuals who can't keep their

  secrets; and when hurt he roars so loudly that all his friends can hear. It has

  been remarked that the sorrows of such persons do not endure very long; nor

  surely was there any great need in this instance that Philip's heart should wear

  a lengthened mourning. Ere long he smoked his pipes, he played his billiards, he

  shouted his songs; he rode in the Park for the pleasure of severely cutting his

  aunt and cousins when their open carriage passed, or of riding down Captain

  Woolcomb or his cousin Ringwood, should either of those worthies come in his

  way.

  One day, when the old Lord Ringwood came to town for his accustomed spring

  visit, Philip condescended to wait upon him, and was announced to his lordship

  just as Talbot Twysden and Ringwood his son were taking leave of their noble

  kinsman. Philip looked at them with a flashing eye and a distended nostril,

  according to his swaggering wont. I daresay they on their part bore a very mean

  and hangdog appearance; for my lord laughed at their discomfiture, and seemed

  immensely amused as they slunk out of the door when Philip came hectoring in.

  "So, sir, there has been a family row. Heard all about it: at least, their side.

  Your father did me the favour to marry my niece, having another wife already?"

  "Having no other wife already, sir??though my dear relations wish to show that

  he had."

  "Wanted your money; thirty thousand pounds is not a trifle. Ten thousand apiece

  for those children. And no more need of any confounded pinching and scraping, as

  they have to do at Beaunash Street. Affair off between you and Agnes? Absurd

  affair. So much the better."

  "Yes, sir, so much the better."

  "Have ten thousand apiece. Would have twenty thousand if they got yours. Quite

  natural to want it."

  "Quite."

  "Woolcomb a sort of negro, I understand. Fine property here: besides the West

  India rubbish. Violent man??so people tell me. Luckily Agnes seems a cool,

  easy-going woman, and must put up with the rough as well as the smooth in

  marrying a property like that. Very lucky for you that that woman persists there

  was no marriage with your father. Twysden says the doctor bribed her. Take it

  he's not got much money to bribe, unless you gave some of yours."

  "I don't bribe people to bear false witness, my lord?? and if??

  "Don't be in a huff; I didn't say so. Twysden says so??perhaps thinks so. When

  people are at law they believe anything of one another."

  "I don't know what other people may do, sir. If I had another man's money, I

  should not be easy until I had paid him back. Had my share of my grandfather's

  property not been lawfully mine??and for a few hours I thought it was

  not??please God, I would have given it up to its rightful owners??at least, my

  father would."

  "Why, hang it all, man, you don't mean to say your father has not settled with

  you?"

  Philip blushed a little. He had been rather surprised that there had been no

  settlement between him and his father.

  "I am only of age a few months, sir. I am not under any apprehension. I get my

  dividends regularly enough. One of my grandfather's trustees, General Baynes, is

  in India. He is to return almost immediately, or we should have sent a power of

  attorney out to him. There's no hurry about the business."

  Philip's maternal grandfather, and Lord Ringwood's brother, the late Colonel

  Philip Ringwood, had died possessed of but trifling property of his own; but his

  wife had brought him a fortune of sixty thousand pounds, which was settled on

  their children, and in the names of trustees??Mr. Briggs, a lawyer, and Colonel

  Baynes, an East India officer, and friend of Mrs. Philip Ringwood's family.

  Colonel Baynes had been in England some eight years before; and Philip

  remembered a kind old gentleman coming to see him at school, and leaving tokens

  of his bounty behind. The other trustee, Mr. Briggs, a lawyer of considerable

  county reputation, was dead long since, having left his affairs in an involved

  condition. During the trustee's absence and the son's minority, Philip's father

  received the dividends on his son's property, and liberally spent them on the

  boy, Indeed, I believe that for some little time at college, and during his

  first journeys abroad, Mr. Philip spent rather more than the income of his

  maternal inheritance, being freely supplied by his father, who told him not to

  stint himself. He was a sumptuous man, Dr.Firmin??openhanded ??subscribing to

  many charities??a lover of solemn good cheer. The doctor's dinners and the

  doctor's equipages were models in their way; and I remember the sincere respect

  with which my uncle the major (the family guide in such matters) used to speak

  of Dr. Firmin's taste. "No duchess in London, sir," he would say, "drove better

  horses than Mrs. Firmin. Sir George Warrender, sir, could not give a better

  dinner, sir, than that to which we sat down yesterday." And for the exercise of

  these civic virtues the doctor had the hearty respect of the good major.

  "Don't tell me, sir," on the other hand, Lord Ringwood would say; "I dined with

  the fellow once??a swaggering fellow, sir; but a servile fellow. The way he

  bowed and flattered was perfectly absurd. Those fellows think we like it??and we

  may. Even at my age, I like flattery??any quantity of it; and not what you call

  delicate, but strong, sir. I like a man to kneel down and kiss my shoestrings. I

  have my own opinion of him afterwards, but that is what I like??what all men

  like; and that is what Firmin gave in quantities. But you could see that his

  house was monstrously expensive. His dinner was excellent, and you saw it was

  good every day??not like your dinners, my good Maria; not like your wines,

  Twysden, which, hang it, I can't swallow, unless I send 'em in myself. Even at

  my own house, I don't give that kind of wine on common occasions which Firmin

  used to give. I drink the best myself, of course, and give it to some who know;

  but I don't give it to common fellows, who come to hunting dinners, or to girls

  and boys who are dancing at my balls."

  "Yes; Mr. Firmin's dinners were very handsome?? and a pretty end came of the

  handsome dinners!" sighed Mrs. Twysden.

  "That's not the question; I am only speaking about the fellow's meat and drink,

  and they were both good. And it's my opinion, that fellow will have a good

  dinner wherever he goes."

  I had the fortune to be present at one of these feasts, which Lord Ringwood

  attended, and at which I met Philip's trustee, General Baynes, who had just

  arrived from India. I remember now the smallest details of the little

  dinner,??the brightness of the old plate, on which the doctor prided himself,

  and the quiet comfort, not to say splendour, of the entertainment. The general

  seemed to take a great liking to Philip, whose
grandfather had been his special

  friend and comrade in arms. He thought he saw something of Philip Ringwood in

  Philip Firmin's face.

  "Ah, indeed!" growls Lord Ringwood.

  "You ain't a bit like him," says the downright general. "Never saw a handsomer

  or more openlooking fellow than Philip Ringwood."

  "Oh! I daresay I looked pretty open myself forty years ago," said my lord; "now

  I'm shut, I suppose. I don't see the least likeness in this young man to my

  brother."

  "That is some sherry as old as the century," whispers the host; "it is the same

  the Prince Regent liked so at a Mansion House dinner, five-and-twenty years

  ago."

  "Never knew anything about wine; was always tippling liqueurs and punch. What do

  you give for this sherry, doctor?"

  The doctor sighed, and looked up to the chandelier. "Drink it while it lasts, my

  good lord; but don't ask me the price. The fact is, I don't like to say what I

  gave for it."

  "You need not stint yourself in the price of sherry, doctor," cries the general

  gaily; "you have but one son, and he has a fortune of his own, as I happen to

  know. You haven't dipped it, master Philip?"

  "I fear, sir, I may have exceeded my income sometimes, in the last three years;

  but my father has helped me."

  "Exceeded nine hundred a-year! Upon my word! When I was a sub, my friends gave

  me fifty pounds a year, and I never was a shilling in debt! What are men coming

  to now?"

  "If doctors drink Prince Regent's sherry at ten guineas a dozen, what can you

  expect of their sons, General Baynes?" grumbles my lord.

  "My father gives you his best, my lord," says Philip gaily; "if you know of any

  better, he will get it for you. Si non, his utere mecum! Please to pass me that

  decanter, Pen!"

  I thought the old lord did not seem ill pleased at the young man's freedom; and

  now, as I recal it, think I can remember, that a peculiar silence and anxiety

  seemed to weigh upon our host??upon him whose face was commonly so anxious and

  sad.

  The famous sherry, which had made many voyages to Indian climes before it

  acquired its exquisite flavour, had travelled some three or four times round the

  doctor's polished table, when Brice, his man, entered with a letter on his

  silver tray. Perhaps Philip's eyes and mine exchanged glances in which ever so

  small a scintilla of mischief might sparkle. The doctor often had letters when

  he was entertaining his friends; and his patients had a knack of falling ill at

  awkward times.

  "Gracious heavens!" cries the doctor, when he read the despatch??it was a

  telegraphic message. "The poor Grand Duke!"

  "What Grand Duke?" asks the surly lord of Ringwood.

  "My earliest patron and friend??the Grand Duke of Groningen! Seized this morning

  at eleven at Potzendorff! Has sent for me. I promised to go to him if ever he

  had need of me. I must go! I can save the night-train yet. General! our visit to

  city must be deferred till my return. Get a portmanteau, Brice; and call a cab

  at once. Philip will entertain my friends for the evening. My dear lord, you

  won't mind an old doctor leaving you to attend an old patient? I will write from

  Groningen. I shall be there on Friday morning. Farewell, gentlemen! Brice,

  another bottle of that sherry! I pray, don't let anybody stir! God bless you,

  Philip, my boy!" And with this the doctor went up, took his son by the hand, and

  laid the other very kindly on the young man's shoulder. Then he made a bow round

  the table to his guests??one of his graceful bows, for which he was famous. I

  can see the sad smile on his face now, and the light from the chandelier over

  the dining-table glancing from his shining forehead, and casting deep shadows on

  to his cheek from his heavy brows.

  The departure was a little abrupt, and, of course, cast somewhat of a gloom upon

  the company.

  "My carriage ain't ordered till ten??must go on sitting here, I suppose.

  Confounded life doctor's must be! Called up any hour in the night! Get their

  fees! Must go!" growled the great man of the party.

  "People are glad enough to have them when they are ill, my lord. I think I have

  heard that once, when you were at Ryde??"

  The great man started back as if a little shock of cold water had fallen on him;

  and then looked at Philip with not unfriendly glances. "Treated for gout??so he

  did. Very well, too!" said my lord; and whispered, not inaudibly, "Cool hand,

  that boy!" And then his lordship fell to talk with General Baynes about his

  campaigning, and his early acquaintance with his own brother, Philip's

  grandfather.

  The general did not care to brag about his own feats of arms, but was loud in

  praises of his old comrade. Philip was pleased to hear his grandsire so well

  spoken of. The general had known Dr. Firmin's father also, who likewise had been

  a colonel in the famous old Peninsular army. "A Tartar that fellow was, and no

  mistake!" said the good officer. "Your father has a strong look of him; and you

  have a glance of him at times. But you remind me of Philip Ringwood not a

  little; and you could not belong to a better man."

  "Ha!" says my lord. There has been differences between him and his brother. He

  may have been thinking of days when they were friends. Lord Ringwood now

  graciously asked if General Baynes was staying in London? But the general had

  only come to do this piece of business, which must now be delayed. He was too

  poor to live in London. He must look out for a country place, where he and his

  children could live cheaply. "Three boys at school, and one at college, Mr.

  Philip??you know what that must cost; though, thank my stars, my college boy

  does not spend nine hundred a year. Nine hundred! Where should we be if he did?"

  In fact, the days of nabobs are long over, and the general had come back to his

  native country with only very small means for the support of a great family.

  When my lord's carriage came, he departed, and the other guests presently took

  their leave. The general, who was a bachelor for the nonce, remained awhile, and

  we three prattled over cheroots in Philip's smokingroom. It was a night like a

  hundred I have spent there, and yet how well I remember it! We talked about

  Philip's future prospects, and he communicated his intentions to us in his

  lordly way. As for practising at the bar: No, sir! he said, in reply to General

  Baynes' queries, he should not make much hand of that: shouldn't if he were ever

  so poor. He had his own money, and his father's, and he condescended to say that

  he might, perhaps, try for Parliament, should an eligible opportunity offer.

  "Here's a fellow born with a silver spoon in his mouth," says the general, as we

  walked away together. "A fortune to begin with; a fortune to inherit. My fortune

  was two thousand pounds and the price of my two first commissions; and when I

  die my children will not be quite so well off as their father was when he

  began!"

  Having parted with the old officer at his modest sleeping quarters near his

  club, I walked to my own home, little thinking that
yonder cigar, of which I had

  shaken some of ashes in Philip's smoking-room, was to be the last tobacco I ever

  should smoke there. The pipe was smoked out. The wine was drunk. When that door

  closed on me, it closed for the last time??at least, was never more to admit me

  as Philip's, as Dr. Firmin's, guest and friend. I pass the place often now. My

  youth comes back to me as I gaze at those blank, shining windows. I see myself a

  boy, and Philip a child; and his fair mother; and his father, the hospitable,

  the melancholy, the magnificent. I wish I could have helped him. I wish somehow

  he had borrowed money. He never did. He gave me his often. I have never seen him

  since that night when his own door closed upon him.

  On the second day after the doctor's departure, as I was at breakfast with my

  family, I received the following letter:??

  My dear Pendennis,

  Could I have seen you in private on Tuesday night, I might have warned you of

  the calamity which was hanging over my house. But to what good end? That you

  should know a few weeks, hours before, what all the world will ring with

  to-morrow? Neither you nor I, nor one whom we both love, would have been the

  happier for knowing my misfortunes a few hours sooner. In four-and-twenty hours

  every club in London will be busy with talk of the departure of the celebrated

  Dr. Firmin??the wealthy Dr. Firmin; a few months more and (I have strict and

  confidential reason to believe) hereditary rank would have been mine, but Sir

  George Firmin would have been an insolvent man, and his son Sir Philip a beggar.

  Perhaps the thought of this honour has been one of the reasons which has

  determined me on expatriating myself sooner than I otherwise needed to have

  done.

  George Firmin, the honoured, the wealthy physician, and his son a beggar? I see

  you are startled at the news! You wonder how, with a great practice, and no

  great ostensible expenses, such ruin should have come upon me??upon him. It has

  seemed as if for years past Fate has been determined to make war upon George

  Brand Firmin; and who can battle against Fate? A man universally admitted to be

  of good judgment, I have embarked in mercantile speculations the most promising.

  Everything upon which I laid my hand has crumbled to ruin; but I can say with

  the Roman bard, "Impavidum ferient ruin?." And, almost penniless, almost aged,

  an exile driven from my country, I seek another where I do not despair??I even

  have a firm belief that I small be enabled to repair my shattered fortunes! My

  race has never been deficient in courage, and Philip and Philip's father must

  use all theirs, so as to be enabled to face the dark times which menace them. Si

  celeres quatit pennas Fortuna, we must resign what she gave us, and bear our

  calamity with unshaken hearts!

  There is a man, I own to you, whom I cannot, I must not face. General Baynes has

  just come from India, with but very small savings, I fear; and these are

  jeopardized by his imprudence and my most cruel and unexpected misfortune. I

  need not tell you that my all would have been my boy's. My will, made long

  since, will be found in the tortoiseshell secretaire standing in my

  consulting-room under the picture of Abraham offering up Isaac. In it you will

  see that everything, except annuities to old and deserving servants and a legacy

  to one excellent and faithful woman whom I own I have wronged??my all, which

  once was considerable, is left to my boy.

  I am now worth less than nothing, and have compromised Philip's property along

  with my own. As a man of business, General Baynes, Colonel Ringwood's old

  companion in arms, was culpably careless, and I??alas! that I must own

  it??deceived him. Being the only surviving trustee (Mrs. Philip Ringwood's other

  trustee was an unprincipled attorney who has been long dead), General B. signed

  a paper authorizing, as he imagined, my bankers to receive Philip's dividends,

  but, in fact, giving me the power to dispose of the capital sum. On my honour,

  as a man, as a gentleman, as a father, Pendcnnis, I hoped to replace it! I took