that she was mistress of the whole controversy. "No wonder Charlotte is unhappy,
dear love! Can a girl be engaged to a young man, a most interesting young man, a
clever, accomplished, highly educated young man??"
"What?" cries Mrs. Baynes.
"Haven't I your letters? I have them all in my desk. They are in that hall now.
Didn't you tell me so over and over again; and rave about him, till I thought
you were in love with him yourself almost?" cries Mrs. Mac.
"A most indecent observation!" cries out Eliza Baynes, in her deep, awful voice.
"No woman, no sister, shall say that to me!"
"Shall I go and get the letters? It used to be, 'Dear Philip has just left us.
Dear Philip has been more than a son to me. He is our preserver!' Didn't you
write all that to me over and over again? And because you have found a richer
husband for Charlotte, you are going to turn your preserver out of doors!"
"Emily MacWhirter, am I to sit here and be accused of crimes, uninvited,
mind??uninvited, mind, by my sister? Is a general officer's lady to be treated
in this way by a brevet-major's wife? Though you are my senior in age, Emily, I
am yours in rank. Out of any room in England, but this, I go before you! And if
you have come uninvited all the way from Tours to insult me in my own house??"
"House, indeed! pretty house! Everybody else's house as well as yours!"
"Such as it is, I never asked you to come into it, Emily!"
"Oh, yes! You wish me to go out in the night. Mac! I say!"
"Emily!" cries the generaless.
"Mac, I say!" screams the majoress, flinging open the door of the salon, "my
sister wishes me to go. Do you hear me?"
"Au nom de Dieu, madame, pensez ? cette pauvre petite, qui souffre ? c?t?,"
cries the mistress of the house, pointing to her own adjoining chamber, in
which, we have said, our poor little Charlotte was lying.
"Nappley pas Madamaselle Baynes petite, sivoplay!" booms out Mrs. Baynes's
contralto.
"MacWhirter, I say, Major MacWhirter!" cries Emily, flinging open the door of
the dining-room where the two gentlemen were knocking their own heads together.
"MacWhirter! My sister chooses to insult me, and say that a brevet-major's
wife??"
"By George! are you fighting, too?" asks the general.
"Baynes, Emily MacWhirter has insulted me!" cries Mrs. Baynes.
"It seems to have been a settled thing beforehand," yells the general. "Major
MacWhirter has done the same thing by me! He has forgotten that he is a
gentleman, and that I am."
"He only insults you because he thinks you are his relative, and must bear
everything from him," says the general's wife.
"By George! I will Not bear everything from him!" shouts the general.
The two gentlemen and their two wives are squabbling in the hall. Madame and the
servants are peering up from the kitchen-regions. I daresay the boys from the
topmost banisters are saying to each other, "Row between Ma and aunt Mac!" I
daresay scared little Charlotte, in her temporary apartment, is, for awhile,
almost forgetful of her own grief; and wondering what quarrel is agitating her
aunt and mother, her father and uncle? Place the remaining male and female
boarders about in the corridors and on the landings, in various attitudes
expressive of interest, of satiric commentary, wrath at being disturbed by
unseemly domestic quarrel:??in what posture you will. As for Mrs. Colonel Bunch,
she, poor thing, does not know that the general and her own colonel have entered
on a mortal quarrel. She imagines the dispute is only between Mrs. Baynes and
her sister as yet; and she has known this pair quarrelling for a score of years
past. "Toujours comme ?, fighting vous savez, et puis make it up again. Oui,"
she explains to a French friend on the landing.
In the very midst of this storm Colonel Bunch returns, his friend and second,
Dr. Martin, on his arm. He does not know that two battles have been fought since
his own combat. His, we will say, was Ligny. Then came Quatre-Bras, in which
Baynes and Mac Whirter were engaged. Then came the general action of Waterloo.
And here enters Colonel Bunch, quite unconscious of the great engagements which
have taken place since his temporary retreat in search of reinforcements.
"How are you, Mac Whirter?" cries the colonel of the purple whiskers. "My
friend, Dr. Martin!" And as he addresses himself to the general, his eyes almost
start out of his head, as if they would shoot themselves into the breast of that
officer.
"My dear, hush! Emily Mac Whirter, had we not better defer this most painful
dispute? The whole house is listening to us!" whispers the general, in a rapid
low voice. "Doctor??Colonel Bunch??Major Mac Whirter, had we not better go into
the diningroom?"
The general and the doctor go first, Major Mac Whirter and Colonel Bunch pause
at the door. Says Bunch to Mac Whirter: "Major, you act as the general's friend
in this affair? It's most awkward, but, by George! Baynes has said things to me
that I won't bear, were he my own flesh and blood, by George! And I know him a
deuced deal too well to think he will ever apologize!"
"He has said things to ME, Bunch, that I won't bear from fifty brother-in-laws,
by George!" growls MacWhirter.
"What? Don't you bring me any message from him?"
"I tell you, Tom Bunch, I want to send a message to him. Invite me to his house,
and insult me and Emily when we come! By George, it makes my blood boil! Insult
us after travelling twenty-four hours in a confounded diligence, and say we're
not invited! He and his little catamaran."
"Hush!" interposed Bunch.
"I say catamaran, sir! don't tell me! They came and stayed with us four months
at Dumdum??the children ill with the pip, or some confounded thing??went to
Europe, and left me to pay the doctor's bill; and now, by??"
Was the major going to invoke George, the Cappadocian champion, or Olympian
Jove? At this moment a door, by which they stood, opens. You may remember there
were three doors, all on that landing; if you doubt me, go and see the house
(Avenue de Marli, Champs Elys?es, Paris). A third door opens, and a young lady
comes out, looking very pale and sad, and her hair hanging over her
shoulders;??her hair, which hung in rich clusters generally, but I suppose tears
have put it all out of curl.
"Is it you, uncle Mac? I thought I knew your voice, and I heard aunt Emily's,"
says the little person.
"Yes, it is I, Charley," says uncle Mac. And he looks into the round face, which
looks so wild and is so full of grief unutterable that uncle Mac is quite
melted, and takes the child to his arms, and says, "What is it, my dear?" And he
quite forgets that he proposes to blow her father's brains out in the morning.
"How hot your little hands are!"
"Uncle, uncle!" she says, in a swift febrile whisper, "you're come to take me
away, I know. I heard you and papa, I heard mamma and aunt Emily speaking quite
loud! But if I go??I'll??I'll never love any but him!"
"But whom, dear?"
"But Philip, uncle."
&n
bsp; "By George! Char, no more you shall!" says the major. And herewith the poor
child, who had been sitting up on her bed whilst this quarrelling of sisters,??
whilst this brawling of majors, generals, colonels,?? whilst this coming of
hackney-coaches,??whilst this arrival and departure of visitors on
horseback,??had been taking place, gave a fine hysterical scream, and fell into
her uncle's arms laughing and crying wildly.
This outcry, of course, brought the gentlemen from their adjacent room, and the
ladies from theirs.
"What are you making a fool of yourself about?" growls Mrs. Baynes, in her
deepest bark.
"By George, Eliza, you are too bad!" says the general quite white.
"Eliza, you are a brute!" cries Mrs. Mac Whirter,
"So She is!" shrieks Mrs. Bunch from the landing-place overhead, where other
lady boarders were assembled looking down on this awful family battle.
Eliza Baynes knew she had gone too far. Poor Charley was scarce conscious by
this time, and wildly screaming, "Never, never!" ... When, as I live, who should
burst into the premises but a young man with fair hair, with flaming whiskers,
with flaming eyes, who calls out, "What is it? I am here, Charlotte, Charlotte!"
Who is that young man? We had a glimpse of him, prowling about the Champs
Elys?es just now, and dodging behind a tree when Colonel Bunch went out in
search of his second. Then the young man saw the Mac Whirter hackney-coach
approach the house. Then he waited and waited, looking to that upper window
behind which we know his beloved was not reposing. Then he beheld Bunch and
Doctor Martin arrive. Then he passed through the wicket into the garden, and
heard Mrs. Mac and Mrs. Baynes fighting. Then there came from the
passage??where, you see, this battle was going on??that ringing, dreadful laugh
and scream of poor Charlotte: and Philip Firmin burst like a bombshell into the
midst of the hall where the battle was raging, and of the family circle who were
fighting and screaming.
Here is a picture, I protest. We have??first, the boarders on the first landing,
whither, too, the Baynes children have crept in their night-gowns. Secondly, we
have Auguste, Fran?oise, the cook, and the assistant coming up from the
basement. And, third, we have Colonel Bunch, Doctor Martin, Major MacWhirter,
with Charlotte in his arms; madame, General B., Mrs. Mac, Mrs. General B., all
in the passage, when our friend the bombshell bursts in amongst them.
"What is it? Charlotte, I am here!" cries Philip, with his great voice; at
hearing which, little Char gives one final scream, and, at the next moment, she
has fainted quite dead??but this time she is on Philip's shoulder.
"You brute, how dare you do this?" asks Mrs. Baynes, glaring at the young man.
"It is you who have done it, Eliza!" says aunt Emily.
"And so she has, Mrs. MacWhirter!" calls out Mrs. Colonel Bunch, from the
landing above.
And Charles Baynes felt he had acted like a traitor, and hung down his head. He
had encouraged his daughter to give her heart away, and she had obeyed him. When
he saw Philip I think he was glad: so was the major, though Firmin, to be sure,
pushed him quite roughly up against the wall.
"Is this vulgar scandal to go on in the passage before the whole house?" gasped
Mrs. Baynes.
"Bunch brought me here to prescribe for this young lady," says little Doctor
Martin, in a very courtly way. "Madame, will you get a little sal volatile from
Anjubeau's in the Faubourg; and let her be kept very quiet!"
"Come, Monsieur Philippe. It is enough like that," cries madame, who can't
repress a smile. "Come to your chamber, dear little!"
"Madame!" cries Mrs. Baynes, "une m?re??"
Madame shrugs her shoulders. "Une m?re, une belle m?re, ma foi!" she says.
"Come, mademoiselle!"
There were only very few people in the boarding-house: if they knew, if they
saw, what happened, how can we help ourselves? But that they had all been
sitting over a powder magazine, which might have blown up and destroyed one,
two, three, five people, even Philip did not know, until afterwards, when,
laughing, Major MacWhirter told him how that meek but most savage Baynes had
first challenged Bunch, had then challenged his brother-in-law, and how all
sorts of battle, murder, sudden death might have ensued had the quarrel not come
to an end.
Were your humble servant anxious to harrow his reader's feelings, or display his
own graphical powers, you understand that I never would have allowed those two
gallant officers to quarrel and threaten each other's very noses, without having
the insult wiped out in blood. The Bois de Boulogne is hard by the Avenue de
Marli, with plenty of cool fighting ground. The octroi officers never stop
gentlemen going out at the neighbouring barrier upon duelling business, or
prevent the return of the slain victim in the hackney-coach when the dreadful
combat is over. From my knowledge of Mrs. Baynes's character, I have not the
slightest doubt that she would have encouraged her husband to fight; and, the
general down, would have put pistols into the hands of her boys, and bidden them
carry on the vendetta; but as I do not, for my part, love to see brethren at
war, or Moses and Aaron tugging white handfuls out of each other's beards, I am
glad there is going to be no fight between the veterans, and that either's stout
old breast is secure from the fratricidal bullet.
Major MacWhirter forgot all about bullets and battles when poor little Charlotte
kissed him, and was not in the least jealous when he saw the little maiden
clinging on Philip's arm. He was melted at the sight of that grief and
innocence, when Mrs. Baynes still continued to bark out her private rage, and
said: "If the general won't protect me from insult, I think I had better go."
"By Jove, I think you had!" exclaimed MacWhirter, to which remark the eyes of
the doctor and Colonel Bunch gleamed an approval.
"Allons, Monsieur Philippe. Enough like that??let me take her to bed again,"
madame resumed. "Come, dear miss?"
What a pity that the bedroom was but a yard from where they stood! Philip felt
strong enough to carry his little Charlotte to the Tuileries. The thick brown
locks, which had fallen over his shoulders, are lifted away. The little wounded
heart that had lain against his own, parts from him with a reviving throb.
Madame and her mother carry away little Charlotte. The door of the neighbouring
chamber closes on her. The sad little vision has disappeared. The men,
quarrelling anon in the passage, stand there silent.
"I heard her voice outside," said Philip, after a little pause (with love, with
grief, with excitement, I suppose his head was in a whirl). "I heard her voice
outside, and I couldn't help coming in."
"By George, I should think not, young fellow!" says Major MacWhirter, stoutly
shaking the young man by the hand.
"Hush, hush!" whispers the doctor; "she must be kept quite quiet. She has had
quite excitement enough for to-night. There must be no more scenes, my young
fellow."
And Philip says, when in this his agony of grief and doubt he found a friendly
hand put out to him, he himself was so exceedingly moved that he was compelled
to fly out of the company of the old men, into the night, where the rain was
pouring??the gentle rain.
While Philip, without Madame Smolensk's premises, is saying his tenderest
prayers, offering up his tears, heart-throbs, and most passionate vows of love
for little Charlotte's benefit, the warriors assembled within once more retreat
to a colloquy in the salle ? manger; and, in consequence of the rainy state of
the night, the astonished Auguste has to bring a third supply of hotwater for
the four gentlemen attending the congress. The colonel, the major, the doctor,
ranged themselves on one side the table, defended, as it were, by a line of
armed tumblers, flanked by a strong brandy-bottle and a stout earth-work from an
embrasure in which scalding water could be discharged. Behind these
fortifications the veterans awaited their enemy, who, after marching up and down
the room for a while, takes position finally in their front and prepares to
attack. The general remounts his cheval de bataille, but cannot bring the animal
to charge as fiercely as before. Charlotte's white apparition has come amongst
them, and flung her fair arms between the men of war. In vain Baynes tries to
get up a bluster, and to enforce his passion with by Georges, by Joves, and
words naughtier still. That weak, meek, quiet, henpecked, but most bloodthirsty
old general, found himself forming his own minority, and against him his old
comrade Bunch, whom he had insulted and nose-pulled; his brother-in-law
MacWhirter, whom he had nose-pulled and insulted; and the doctor, who had been
called in as the friend of the former. As they faced him, shoulder to shoulder,
each of those three acquired fresh courage from his neighbour. Each, taking his
aim deliberately, poured his fire into Baynes. To yield to such odds, on the
other hand, was not so distasteful to the veteran, as to have to give up his
sword to any single adversary. Before he would own himself in the wrong to any
individual, he would eat that individual's ears and nose: but to be surrounded
by three enemies, and strike your flag before such odds, was no disgrace; and
Baynes could take the circumbendibus way of apology to which some proud spirits
will submit. Thus he could say to the doctor, "Well, doctor, perhaps I was hasty
in accusing Bunch of employing bad language to me. A bystander can see these
things sometimes when a principal is too angry; and as you go against
me??well??there, then, I ask Bunch's pardon." That business over, the MacWhirter
reconciliation was very speedily brought about. Fact was, was in a confounded
ill-temper?? very much disturbed by events of the day??didn't mean anything but
this, that, and so forth. If this old chief had to eat humble pie, his brave
adversaries were anxious that he should gobble up his portion as quickly as
possible, and turned away their honest old heads as he swallowed it. One of the
party told his wife of the quarrel which had arisen, but Baynes never did. "I
declare, sir," Philip used to say, "had she known anything about the quarrel
that night, Mrs. Baynes would have made her husband turn out of bed at midnight,
and challenge his old friends over again!" But then there was no love between
Philip and Mrs. Baynes, and in those whom he hates he is accustomed to see
little good.
Thus, any gentle reader who expected to be treated to an account of the breakage
of the sixth commandment will close this chapter disappointed. Those stout old
rusty swords which were fetched off their hooks by the warriors, their owners,
were returned undrawn to their flannel cases. Hands were shaken after a
fashion??at least no blood was shed. But, though the words spoken between the
old boys were civil enough, Bunch, Baynes, and the doctor could not alter their
opinion that Philip had been hardly used, and that the benefactor of his family