IV
It was during the voyage that Cedric's mother told him that his home wasnot to be hers; and when he first understood it, his grief was sogreat that Mr. Havisham saw that the Earl had been wise in making thearrangements that his mother should be quite near him, and see himoften; for it was very plain he could not have borne the separationotherwise. But his mother managed the little fellow so sweetly andlovingly, and made him feel that she would be so near him, that, after awhile, he ceased to be oppressed by the fear of any real parting.
"My house is not far from the Castle, Ceddie," she repeated each timethe subject was referred to--"a very little way from yours, and you canalways run in and see me every day, and you will have so many thingsto tell me! and we shall be so happy together! It is a beautiful place.Your papa has often told me about it. He loved it very much; and youwill love it too."
"I should love it better if you were there," his small lordship said,with a heavy little sigh.
He could not but feel puzzled by so strange a state of affairs, whichcould put his "Dearest" in one house and himself in another.
The fact was that Mrs. Errol had thought it better not to tell him whythis plan had been made.
"I should prefer he should not be told," she said to Mr. Havisham. "Hewould not really understand; he would only be shocked and hurt; andI feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will be a more natural andaffectionate one if he does not know that his grandfather dislikes me sobitterly. He has never seen hatred or hardness, and it would be a greatblow to him to find out that any one could hate me. He is so lovinghimself, and I am so dear to him! It is better for him that he shouldnot be told until he is much older, and it is far better for the Earl.It would make a barrier between them, even though Ceddie is such achild."
So Cedric only knew that there was some mysterious reason for thearrangement, some reason which he was not old enough to understand, butwhich would be explained when he was older. He was puzzled; but, afterall, it was not the reason he cared about so much; and after many talkswith his mother, in which she comforted him and placed before him thebright side of the picture, the dark side of it gradually began to fadeout, though now and then Mr. Havisham saw him sitting in some queerlittle old-fashioned attitude, watching the sea, with a very grave face,and more than once he heard an unchildish sigh rise to his lips.
"I don't like it," he said once as he was having one of his almostvenerable talks with the lawyer. "You don't know how much I don't likeit; but there are a great many troubles in this world, and you haveto bear them. Mary says so, and I've heard Mr. Hobbs say it too. AndDearest wants me to like to live with my grandpapa, because, you see,all his children are dead, and that's very mournful. It makes yousorry for a man, when all his children have died--and one was killedsuddenly."
One of the things which always delighted the people who made theacquaintance of his young lordship was the sage little air he woreat times when he gave himself up to conversation;--combined with hisoccasionally elderly remarks and the extreme innocence and seriousnessof his round childish face, it was irresistible. He was such a handsome,blooming, curly-headed little fellow, that, when he sat down and nursedhis knee with his chubby hands, and conversed with much gravity, he wasa source of great entertainment to his hearers. Gradually Mr. Havishamhad begun to derive a great deal of private pleasure and amusement fromhis society.
"And so you are going to try to like the Earl," he said.
"Yes," answered his lordship. "He's my relation, and of course you haveto like your relations; and besides, he's been very kind to me. When aperson does so many things for you, and wants you to have everything youwish for, of course you'd like him if he wasn't your relation; but whenhe's your relation and does that, why, you're very fond of him."
"Do you think," suggested Mr. Havisham, "that he will be fond of you?"
"Well," said Cedric, "I think he will, because, you see, I'm hisrelation, too, and I'm his boy's little boy besides, and, well, don'tyou see--of course he must be fond of me now, or he wouldn't want me tohave everything that I like, and he wouldn't have sent you for me."
"Oh!" remarked the lawyer, "that's it, is it?"
"Yes," said Cedric, "that's it. Don't you think that's it, too? Ofcourse a man would be fond of his grandson."
The people who had been seasick had no sooner recovered from theirseasickness, and come on deck to recline in their steamer-chairs andenjoy themselves, than every one seemed to know the romantic story oflittle Lord Fauntleroy, and every one took an interest in the littlefellow, who ran about the ship or walked with his mother or the tall,thin old lawyer, or talked to the sailors. Every one liked him; hemade friends everywhere. He was ever ready to make friends. When thegentlemen walked up and down the deck, and let him walk with them, hestepped out with a manly, sturdy little tramp, and answered all theirjokes with much gay enjoyment; when the ladies talked to him, there wasalways laughter in the group of which he was the center; when he playedwith the children, there was always magnificent fun on hand. Among thesailors he had the heartiest friends; he heard miraculous stories aboutpirates and shipwrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice ropesand rig toy ships, and gained an amount of information concerning"tops'ls" and "mains'ls," quite surprising. His conversation had,indeed, quite a nautical flavor at times, and on one occasion he raiseda shout of laughter in a group of ladies and gentlemen who were sittingon deck, wrapped in shawls and overcoats, by saying sweetly, and with avery engaging expression:
"Shiver my timbers, but it's a cold day!"
It surprised him when they laughed. He had picked up this sea-faringremark from an "elderly naval man" of the name of Jerry, who told himstories in which it occurred frequently. To judge from his stories ofhis own adventures, Jerry had made some two or three thousand voyages,and had been invariably shipwrecked on each occasion on an islanddensely populated with bloodthirsty cannibals. Judging, also, by thesesame exciting adventures, he had been partially roasted and eatenfrequently and had been scalped some fifteen or twenty times.
"That is why he is so bald," explained Lord Fauntleroy to his mamma."After you have been scalped several times the hair never grows again.Jerry's never grew again after that last time, when the King of theParromachaweekins did it with the knife made out of the skull of theChief of the Wopslemumpkies. He says it was one of the most serioustimes he ever had. He was so frightened that his hair stood rightstraight up when the king flourished his knife, and it never would liedown, and the king wears it that way now, and it looks something like ahair-brush. I never heard anything like the asperiences Jerry has had! Ishould so like to tell Mr. Hobbs about them!"
Sometimes, when the weather was very disagreeable and people werekept below decks in the saloon, a party of his grown-up friends wouldpersuade him to tell them some of these "asperiences" of Jerry's, and ashe sat relating them with great delight and fervor, there was certainlyno more popular voyager on any ocean steamer crossing the Atlantic thanlittle Lord Fauntleroy. He was always innocently and good-naturedlyready to do his small best to add to the general entertainment, andthere was a charm in the very unconsciousness of his own childishimportance.
"Jerry's stories int'rust them very much," he said to his mamma. "For mypart--you must excuse me, Dearest--but sometimes I should have thoughtthey couldn't be all quite true, if they hadn't happened to Jerryhimself; but as they all happened to Jerry--well, it's very strange, youknow, and perhaps sometimes he may forget and be a little mistaken, ashe's been scalped so often. Being scalped a great many times might makea person forgetful."
It was eleven days after he had said good-bye to his friend Dick beforehe reached Liverpool; and it was on the night of the twelfth day thatthe carriage in which he and his mother and Mr. Havisham had driven fromthe station stopped before the gates of Court Lodge. They could notsee much of the house in the darkness. Cedric only saw that there was adrive-way under great arching trees, and after the carriage had rolleddown this drive-way a short distance, he saw an open door
and a streamof bright light coming through it.
Mary had come with them to attend her mistress, and she had reached thehouse before them. When Cedric jumped out of the carriage he saw one ortwo servants standing in the wide, bright hall, and Mary stood in thedoor-way.
Lord Fauntleroy sprang at her with a gay little shout.
"Did you get here, Mary?" he said. "Here's Mary, Dearest," and he kissedthe maid on her rough red cheek.
"I am glad you are here, Mary," Mrs. Errol said to her in a low voice."It is such a comfort to me to see you. It takes the strangeness away."And she held out her little hand, which Mary squeezed encouragingly. Sheknew how this first "strangeness" must feel to this little mother whohad left her own land and was about to give up her child.
The English servants looked with curiosity at both the boy and hismother. They had heard all sorts of rumors about them both; they knewhow angry the old Earl had been, and why Mrs. Errol was to live at thelodge and her little boy at the castle; they knew all about the greatfortune he was to inherit, and about the savage old grandfather and hisgout and his tempers.
"He'll have no easy time of it, poor little chap," they had said amongthemselves.
But they did not know what sort of a little lord had come amongthem; they did not quite understand the character of the next Earl ofDorincourt.
He pulled off his overcoat quite as if he were used to doing things forhimself, and began to look about him. He looked about the broad hall, atthe pictures and stags' antlers and curious things that ornamented it.They seemed curious to him because he had never seen such things beforein a private house.
"Dearest," he said, "this is a very pretty house, isn't it? I am gladyou are going to live here. It's quite a large house."
It was quite a large house compared to the one in the shabby New Yorkstreet, and it was very pretty and cheerful. Mary led them upstairs toa bright chintz-hung bedroom where a fire was burning, and a largesnow-white Persian cat was sleeping luxuriously on the white furhearth-rug.
"It was the house-kaper up at the Castle, ma'am, sint her to yez,"explained Mary. "It's herself is a kind-hearted lady an' has hadiverything done to prepar' fur yez. I seen her meself a few minnits, an'she was fond av the Capt'in, ma'am, an' graivs fur him; and she said tosay the big cat slapin' on the rug moight make the room same homeloiketo yez. She knowed Capt'in Errol whin he was a bye--an' a foine handsum'bye she ses he was, an' a foine young man wid a plisint word fur everyone, great an' shmall. An' ses I to her, ses I: 'He's lift a byethat's loike him, ma'am, fur a foiner little felly niver sthipped inshoe-leather."'
When they were ready, they went downstairs into another big bright room;its ceiling was low, and the furniture was heavy and beautifully carved,the chairs were deep and had high massive backs, and there were queershelves and cabinets with strange, pretty ornaments on them. There wasa great tiger-skin before the fire, and an arm-chair on each side of it.The stately white cat had responded to Lord Fauntleroy's stroking andfollowed him downstairs, and when he threw himself down upon the rug,she curled herself up grandly beside him as if she intended to makefriends. Cedric was so pleased that he put his head down by hers, andlay stroking her, not noticing what his mother and Mr. Havisham weresaying.
They were, indeed, speaking in a rather low tone. Mrs. Errol looked alittle pale and agitated.
"He need not go to-night?" she said. "He will stay with me to-night?"
"Yes," answered Mr. Havisham in the same low tone; "it will not benecessary for him to go to-night. I myself will go to the Castle as soonas we have dined, and inform the Earl of our arrival."
Mrs. Errol glanced down at Cedric. He was lying in a graceful, carelessattitude upon the black-and-yellow skin; the fire shone on his handsome,flushed little face, and on the tumbled, curly hair spread out on therug; the big cat was purring in drowsy content,--she liked the caressingtouch of the kind little hand on her fur.
Mrs. Errol smiled faintly.
"His lordship does not know all that he is taking from me," she saidrather sadly. Then she looked at the lawyer. "Will you tell him, if youplease," she said, "that I should rather not have the money?"
"The money!" Mr. Havisham exclaimed. "You can not mean the income heproposed to settle upon you!"
"Yes," she answered, quite simply; "I think I should rather not haveit. I am obliged to accept the house, and I thank him for it, because itmakes it possible for me to be near my child; but I have a little moneyof my own,--enough to live simply upon,--and I should rather not takethe other. As he dislikes me so much, I should feel a little as if Iwere selling Cedric to him. I am giving him up only because I love himenough to forget myself for his good, and because his father would wishit to be so."
Mr. Havisham rubbed his chin.
"This is very strange," he said. "He will be very angry. He won'tunderstand it."
"I think he will understand it after he thinks it over," she said. "I donot really need the money, and why should I accept luxuries from theman who hates me so much that he takes my little boy from me--his son'schild?"
Mr. Havisham looked reflective for a few moments.
"I will deliver your message," he said afterward.
And then the dinner was brought in and they sat down together, the bigcat taking a seat on a chair near Cedric's and purring majesticallythroughout the meal.
When, later in the evening, Mr. Havisham presented himself at theCastle, he was taken at once to the Earl. He found him sitting by thefire in a luxurious easy-chair, his foot on a gout-stool. He lookedat the lawyer sharply from under his shaggy eyebrows, but Mr. Havishamcould see that, in spite of his pretense at calmness, he was nervous andsecretly excited.
"Well," he said; "well, Havisham, come back, have you? What's the news?"
"Lord Fauntleroy and his mother are at Court Lodge," replied Mr.Havisham. "They bore the voyage very well and are in excellent health."
The Earl made a half-impatient sound and moved his hand restlessly.
"Glad to hear it," he said brusquely. "So far, so good. Make yourselfcomfortable. Have a glass of wine and settle down. What else?"
"His lordship remains with his mother to-night. To-morrow I will bringhim to the Castle."
The Earl's elbow was resting on the arm of his chair; he put his hand upand shielded his eyes with it.
"Well," he said; "go on. You know I told you not to write to me aboutthe matter, and I know nothing whatever about it. What kind of a lad ishe? I don't care about the mother; what sort of a lad is he?"
Mr. Havisham drank a little of the glass of port he had poured out forhimself, and sat holding it in his hand.
"It is rather difficult to judge of the character of a child of seven,"he said cautiously.
The Earl's prejudices were very intense. He looked up quickly anduttered a rough word.
"A fool, is he?" he exclaimed. "Or a clumsy cub? His American bloodtells, does it?"
"I do not think it has injured him, my lord," replied the lawyer inhis dry, deliberate fashion. "I don't know much about children, but Ithought him rather a fine lad."
His manner of speech was always deliberate and unenthusiastic, but hemade it a trifle more so than usual. He had a shrewd fancy that itwould be better that the Earl should judge for himself, and be quiteunprepared for his first interview with his grandson.
"Healthy and well-grown?" asked my lord.
"Apparently very healthy, and quite well-grown," replied the lawyer.
"Straight-limbed and well enough to look at?" demanded the Earl.
A very slight smile touched Mr. Havisham's thin lips. There rose upbefore his mind's eye the picture he had left at Court Lodge,--thebeautiful, graceful child's body lying upon the tiger-skin in carelesscomfort--the bright, tumbled hair spread on the rug--the bright, rosyboy's face.
"Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord, as boys go," he said, "thoughI am scarcely a judge, perhaps. But you will find him somewhat differentfrom most English children, I dare say."
"I haven't
a doubt of that," snarled the Earl, a twinge of gout seizinghim. "A lot of impudent little beggars, those American children; I'veheard that often enough."
"It is not exactly impudence in his case," said Mr. Havisham. "I canscarcely describe what the difference is. He has lived more with olderpeople than with children, and the difference seems to be a mixture ofmaturity and childishness."
"American impudence!" protested the Earl. "I've heard of it before. Theycall it precocity and freedom. Beastly, impudent bad manners; that'swhat it is!"
Mr. Havisham drank some more port. He seldom argued with his lordlypatron,--never when his lordly patron's noble leg was inflamed by gout.At such times it was always better to leave him alone. So there was asilence of a few moments. It was Mr. Havisham who broke it.
"I have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol," he remarked.
"I don't want any of her messages!" growled his lordship; "the less Ihear of her the better."
"This is a rather important one," explained the lawyer. "She prefers notto accept the income you proposed to settle on her."
The Earl started visibly.
"What's that?" he cried out. "What's that?"
Mr. Havisham repeated his words.
"She says it is not necessary, and that as the relations between you arenot friendly----"
"Not friendly!" ejaculated my lord savagely; "I should say they were notfriendly! I hate to think of her! A mercenary, sharp-voiced American! Idon't wish to see her."
"My lord," said Mr. Havisham, "you can scarcely call her mercenary. Shehas asked for nothing. She does not accept the money you offer her."
"All done for effect!" snapped his noble lordship. "She wants to wheedleme into seeing her. She thinks I shall admire her spirit. I don't admireit! It's only American independence! I won't have her living like abeggar at my park gates. As she's the boy's mother, she has a positionto keep up, and she shall keep it up. She shall have the money, whethershe likes it or not!"
"She won't spend it," said Mr. Havisham.
"I don't care whether she spends it or not!" blustered my lord. "Sheshall have it sent to her. She sha'n't tell people that she has to livelike a pauper because I have done nothing for her! She wants to give theboy a bad opinion of me! I suppose she has poisoned his mind against mealready!"
"No," said Mr. Havisham. "I have another message, which will prove toyou that she has not done that."
"I don't want to hear it!" panted the Earl, out of breath with anger andexcitement and gout.
But Mr. Havisham delivered it.
"She asks you not to let Lord Fauntleroy hear anything which wouldlead him to understand that you separate him from her because of yourprejudice against her. He is very fond of her, and she is convinced thatit would cause a barrier to exist between you. She says he would notcomprehend it, and it might make him fear you in some measure, or atleast cause him to feel less affection for you. She has told him thathe is too young to understand the reason, but shall hear it when he isolder. She wishes that there should be no shadow on your first meeting."
The Earl sank back into his chair. His deep-set fierce old eyes gleamedunder his beetling brows.
"Come, now!" he said, still breathlessly. "Come, now! You don't mean themother hasn't told him?"
"Not one word, my lord," replied the lawyer coolly. "That I canassure you. The child is prepared to believe you the most amiable andaffectionate of grandparents. Nothing--absolutely nothing has been saidto him to give him the slightest doubt of your perfection. And asI carried out your commands in every detail, while in New York, hecertainly regards you as a wonder of generosity."
"He does, eh?" said the Earl.
"I give you my word of honor," said Mr. Havisham, "that LordFauntleroy's impressions of you will depend entirely upon yourself. Andif you will pardon the liberty I take in making the suggestion, I thinkyou will succeed better with him if you take the precaution not to speakslightingly of his mother."
"Pooh, pooh!" said the Earl. "The youngster is only seven years old!"
"He has spent those seven years at his mother's side," returned Mr.Havisham; "and she has all his affection."