CHAPTER XVII.
A RELATIVE.
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd.
_Deserted Village._
Starting at the unexpected and undesired apparition which presenteditself, in the manner described at the end of the last chapter, Mowbrayyet felt, at the same time, a kind of relief, that his meeting with LordEtherington, painfully decisive as that meeting must be, was for a timesuspended. So it was with a mixture of peevishness and internalsatisfaction, that he demanded what had procured him the honour of avisit from Mr. Touchwood at this late hour.
"Necessity, that makes the old wife trot," replied Touchwood; "no choiceof mine, I assure you--Gad, Mr. Mowbray, I would rather have crossedSaint Gothard, than run the risk I have done to-night, rumbling throughyour breakneck roads in that d----d old wheelbarrow.--On my word, Ibelieve I must be troublesome to your butler for a draught ofsomething--I am as thirsty as a coal-heaver that is working by thepiece. You have porter, I suppose, or good old Scotch two-penny?"
With a secret execration on his visitor's effrontery, Mr. Mowbrayordered the servant to put down wine and water, of which Touchwoodmixed a gobletful, and drank it off.
"We are a small family," said his entertainer; "and I am seldom athome--still more seldom receive guests, when I chance to be here--I amsorry I have no malt liquor, if you prefer it."
"Prefer it?" said Touchwood, compounding, however, another glass ofsherry and water, and adding a large piece of sugar, to correct thehoarseness which, he observed, his night journey might bring on,--"to besure I prefer it, and so does every body, except Frenchmen anddandies.--No offence, Mr. Mowbray, but you should order a hogshead fromMeux--the brown-stout, wired down for exportation to the colonies, keepsfor any length of time, and in every climate--I have drank it where itmust have cost a guinea a quart, if interest had been counted."
"When I _expect_ the honour of a visit from you, Mr. Touchwood, I willendeavour to be better provided," answered Mowbray; "at present yourarrival has been without notice, and I would be glad to know if it hasany particular object."
"This is what I call coming to the point," said Mr. Touchwood, thrustingout his stout legs, accoutred as they were with the ancient defences,called boot-hose, so as to rest his heels upon the fender. "Upon mylife, the fire turns the best flower in the garden at this season of theyear--I'll take the freedom to throw on a log.--Is it not a strangething, by the by, that one never sees a fagot in Scotland? You have muchsmall wood, Mr. Mowbray, I wonder you do not get some fellow from themidland counties, to teach your people how to make a fagot."
"Did you come all the way to Shaws-Castle," asked Mowbray, rathertestily, "to instruct me in the mystery of fagot-making?"
"Not exactly--not exactly," answered the undaunted Touchwood; "but thereis a right and a wrong way in every thing--a word by the way, on anyuseful subject, can never fall amiss.--As for my immediate and morepressing business, I can assure you, that it is of a nature sufficientlyurgent, since it brings me to a house in which I am much surprised tofind myself."
"The surprise is mutual, sir," said Mowbray, gravely, observing that hisguest made a pause; "it is full time you should explain it."
"Well, then," replied Touchwood; "I must first ask you whether you havenever heard of a certain old gentleman, called Scrogie, who took it intowhat he called his head, poor man, to be ashamed of the name he bore,though owned by many honest and respectable men, and chose to join it toyour surname of Mowbray, as having a more chivalrous Norman sounding,and, in a word, a gentlemanlike twang with it?"
"I have heard of such a person, though only lately," said Mowbray."Reginald Scrogie Mowbray was his name. I have reason to consider hisalliance with my family as undoubted, though you seem to mention it witha sneer, sir. I believe Mr. S. Mowbray regulated his family settlementsvery much upon the idea that his heir was to intermarry with our house."
"True, true, Mr. Mowbray," answered Touchwood; "and certainly it is notyour business to lay the axe to the root of the genealogical tree, thatis like to bear golden apples for you--Ha!"
"Well, well, sir--proceed--proceed," answered Mowbray.
"You may also have heard that this old gentleman had a son, who wouldwillingly have cut up the said family-tree into fagots; who thoughtScrogie sounded as well as Mowbray, and had no fancy for an imaginarygentility, which was to be attained by the change of one's natural name,and the disowning, as it were, of one's actual relations."
"I think I have heard from Lord Etherington," answered Mowbray, "towhose communications I owe most of my knowledge about these Scrogiepeople, that old Mr. Scrogie Mowbray was unfortunate in a son, whothwarted his father on every occasion,--would embrace no opportunitywhich fortunate chances held out, of raising and distinguishing thefamily,--had imbibed low tastes, wandering habits, and singular objectsof pursuit,--on account of which his father disinherited him."
"It is very true, Mr. Mowbray," proceeded Touchwood, "that this persondid happen to fall under his father's displeasure, because he scornedforms and flummery,--loved better to make money as an honest merchant,than to throw it away as an idle gentleman,--never called a coach whenwalking on foot would serve the turn,--and liked the Royal Exchangebetter than St. James's Park. In short, his father disinherited him,because he had the qualities for doubling the estate, rather than thosefor squandering it."
"All this may be quite correct, Mr. Touchwood," replied Mowbray; "butpray, what has this Mr. Scrogie, junior, to do with you or me?"
"Do with you or me!" said Touchwood, as if surprised at the question;"he has a great deal to do with me at least, since I am the very manmyself."
"The devil you are!" said Mowbray, opening wide his eyes in turn; "Why,Mr. A--a--your name is Touchwood--P. Touchwood--Paul, I suppose, orPeter--I read it so in the subscription book at the Well."
"Peregrine, sir, Peregrine--my mother would have me so christened,because Peregrine Pickle came out during her confinement; and my poorfoolish father acquiesced, because he thought it genteel, and derivedfrom the Willoughbies. I don't like it, and I always write P. short, andyou might have remarked an S. also before the surname--I use at presentP. S. Touchwood. I had an old acquaintance in the city, who loved hisjest--He always called me Postscript Touchwood."
"Then, sir," said Mowbray, "if you are really Mr. Scrogie, _tout court_,I must suppose the name of Touchwood is assumed?"
"What the devil!" replied Mr. P. S. Touchwood, "do you suppose there isno name in the English nation will couple up legitimately with mypaternal name of Scrogie, except your own, Mr. Mowbray?--I assure you Igot the name of Touchwood, and a pretty spell of money along with it,from an old godfather, who admired my spirit in sticking by commerce."
"Well, sir, every one has his taste--Many would have thought it betterto enjoy a hereditary estate, by keeping your father's name of Mowbray,than to have gained another by assuming a stranger's name of Touchwood."
"Who told you Mr. Touchwood was a stranger to me?" said the traveller;"for aught I know, he had a better title to the duties of a son fromme, than the poor old man who made such a fool of himself, by trying toturn gentleman in his old age. He was my grandfather's partner in thegreat firm of Touchwood, Scrogie, and Co.--Let me tell you, there is asgood inheritance in house as in field--a man's partners are his fathersand brothers, and a head clerk may be likened to a kind of firstcousin."
"I meant no offence whatever, Mr. Touchwood Scrogie."
"Scrogie Touchwood, if you please," said the senior; "the scrog branchfirst, for it must become rotten ere it become touchwood--ha, ha,ha!--you take me."
"A singular old fellow this," said Mowbray to himself, "and speaks inall the dignity of dollars; but I will be civil to him, till I can seewhat he is driving at.--You are facetious, Mr. Touchwood," he proceededaloud. "I was only going to say, that although you set no value uponyour connexion with my family, yet I cannot forget that such acircumstance exists; and therefore I bid you heartily welcome toShaws-Castle."
"Thank ye, thank ye, Mr. Mowbray--I knew you would see the thing right.To tell you the truth, I should not have cared much to come a-beggingfor your acquaintance and cousinship, and so forth; but that I thoughtyou would be more tractable in your adversity, than was your father inhis prosperity."
"Did you know my father, sir?" said Mowbray.
"Ay, ay--I came once down here, and was introduced to him--saw yoursister and you when you were children--had thoughts of making my willthen, and should have clapped you both in before I set out to doubleCape Horn. But, gad, I wish my poor father had seen the reception I got!I did not let the old gentleman, Mr. Mowbray of St. Ronan's that wasthen, smoke my money-bags--that might have made him more tractable--notbut that we went on indifferent well for a day or two, till I got a hintthat my room was wanted, for that the Duke of Devil-knows-what wasexpected, and my bed was to serve his valet-de-chambre.--'Oh, damn allgentle cousins!' said I, and off I set on the pad round the world again,and thought no more of the Mowbrays till a year or so ago."
"And, pray, what recalled us to your recollection?"
"Why," said Touchwood, "I was settled for some time at Smyrna, (for Iturn the penny go where I will--I have done a little business even sinceI came here;)--but being at Smyrna as I said, I became acquainted withFrancis Tyrrel."
"The natural brother of Lord Etherington," said Mowbray.
"Ay, so called," answered Touchwood; "but by and by he is more likely toprove the Earl of Etherington himself, and t'other fine fellow thebastard."
"The devil he is!--You surprise me, Mr. Touchwood."
"I thought I should--I thought I should--Faith, I am sometimes surprisedmyself at the turn things take in this world. But the thing is not theless certain--the proofs are lying in the strong chest of our house atLondon, deposited there by the old Earl, who repented of his roguery toMiss Martigny long before he died, but had not courage enough to do hislegitimate son justice till the sexton had housed him."
"Good Heaven, sir!" said Mowbray; "and did you know all this while, thatI was about to bestow the only sister of my house upon an impostor?"
"What was my business with that, Mr. Mowbray?" replied Touchwood; "youwould have been very angry had any one suspected you of not being sharpenough to look out for yourself and your sister both. Besides, LordEtherington, bad enough as he may be in other respects, was, till verylately, no impostor, or an innocent one, for he only occupied thesituation in which his father had placed him. And, indeed, when Iunderstood, upon coming to England, that he was gone down here, and, asI conjectured, to pay his addresses to your sister, to say truth, I didnot see he could do better. Here was a poor fellow that was about tocease to be a lord and a wealthy man; was it not very reasonable that heshould make the most of his dignity while he had it? and if, by marryinga pretty girl while in possession of his title, he could get possessionof the good estate of Nettlewood, why, I could see nothing in it but avery pretty way of breaking his fall."
"Very pretty for him, indeed, and very convenient too," said Mowbray;"but pray, sir, what was to become of the honour of my family?"
"Why, what was the honour of your family to me?" said Touchwood; "unlessit was to recommend your family to my care, that I was disinherited onaccount of it. And if this Etherington, or Bulmer, had been a goodfellow, I would have seen all the Mowbrays that ever wore broad cloth atJericho, before I had interfered."
"I am really much indebted to your kindness," said Mowbray angrily.
"More than you are aware of," answered Touchwood; "for, though I thoughtthis Bulmer, even when declared illegitimate, might be a reasonable goodmatch for your sister, considering the estate which was to accompany theunion of their hands; yet, now I have discovered him to be ascoundrel--every way a scoundrel--I would not wish any decent girl tomarry him, were they to get all Yorkshire, instead of Nettlewood. So Ihave come to put you right."
The strangeness of the news which Touchwood so bluntly communicated,made Mowbray's head turn round like that of a man who grows dizzy atfinding himself on the verge of a precipice. Touchwood observed hisconsternation, which he willingly construed into an acknowledgment ofhis own brilliant genius.
"Take a glass of wine, Mr. Mowbray," he said, complacently; "take aglass of old sherry--nothing like it for clearing the ideas--and do notbe afraid of me, though I come thus suddenly upon you with suchsurprising tidings--you will find me a plain, simple, ordinary man, thathave my faults and my blunders like other people. I acknowledge thatmuch travel and experience have made me sometimes play the busybody,because I find I can do things better than other people, and I love tosee folk stare--it's a way I have got. But, after all, I am _un bondiable_, as the Frenchman says; and here I have come four or fivehundred miles to lie quiet among you all, and put all your littlematters to rights, just when you think they are most desperate."
"I thank you for your good intentions," said Mowbray; "but I must needssay, that they would have been more effectual had you been less cunningin my behalf, and frankly told me what you knew of Lord Etherington; asit is, the matter has gone fearfully far. I have promised him mysister--I have laid myself under personal obligations to him--and thereare other reasons why I fear I must keep my word to this man, earl or noearl."
"What!" exclaimed Touchwood, "would you give up your sister to aworthless rascal, who is capable of robbing the post-office, and ofmurdering his brother, because you have lost a trifle of money to him?Are you to let him go off triumphantly, because he is a gamester as wellas a cheat?--You are a pretty fellow, Mr. Mowbray of St. Ronan's--youare one of the happy sheep that go out for wool, and come home shorn.Egad, you think yourself a millstone, and turn out a sack of grain--Youflew abroad a hawk, and have come home a pigeon--You snarled at thePhilistines, and they have drawn your eye-teeth with a vengeance!"
"This is all very witty, Mr. Touchwood," replied Mowbray; "but wit willnot pay this man Etherington, or whatever he is, so many hundreds as Ihave lost to him."
"Why, then, wealth must do what wit cannot," said old Touchwood; "I mustadvance for you, that is all. Look ye, sir, I do not go afoot fornothing--if I have laboured, I have reaped--and, like the fellow in theold play, 'I have enough, and can maintain my humour'--it is not a fewhundreds, or thousands either, can stand betwixt old P. S. Touchwood andhis purpose; and my present purpose is to make you, Mr. Mowbray of St.Ronan's, a free man of the forest.--You still look grave on it, youngman?--Why, I trust you are not such an ass as to think your dignityoffended, because the plebeian Scrogie comes to the assistance of theterribly great and old house of Mowbray?"
"I am indeed not such a fool," answered Mowbray, with his eyes stillbent on the ground, "to reject assistance that comes to me like a ropeto a drowning man--but there is a circumstance"----he stopped short anddrank a glass of wine--"a circumstance to which it is most painful to meto allude--but you seem my friend--and I cannot intimate to you morestrongly my belief in your professions of regard than by saying, thatthe language held by Lady Penelope Penfeather on my sister's account,renders it highly proper that she were settled in life; and I cannot butfear, that the breaking off the affair with this man might be of greatprejudice to her at this moment. They will have Nettlewood, and they maylive separate--he has offered to make settlements to that effect, evenon the very day of marriage. Her condition as a married woman will puther above scandal, and above necessity, from which, I am sorry to say, Icannot hope long to preserve her."
"For shame!--for shame!--for shame!" said Touchwood, accumulating hiswords thicker than usual on each other; "would you sell your own fleshand blood to a man like this Bulmer, whose character is now laid beforeyou, merely because a disappointed old maid speaks scandal of her? Afine veneration you pay to the honoured name of Mowbray! If my poor,old, simple father had known what the owners of these two grandsyllables could have stooped to do for merely ensuring subsistence, hewould have thought as little of the noble Mowbrays as of the humbleScrogies. And, I dare say, the young lady is just such another--eagerto get married--no matt
er to whom."
"Excuse me, Mr. Touchwood," answered Mowbray; "my sister entertainssentiments so very different from what you ascribe to her, that she andI parted on the most unpleasant terms, in consequence of my pressingthis man's suit upon her. God knows, that I only did so, because I sawno other outlet from this most unpleasant dilemma. But, since you arewilling to interfere, sir, and aid me to disentangle these complicatedmatters, which have, I own, been made worse by my own rashness, I amready to throw the matter completely into your hands, just as if youwere my father arisen from the dead. Nevertheless, I must needs expressmy surprise at the extent of your intelligence in these affairs."
"You speak very sensibly, young man," said the traveller; "and as for myintelligence, I have for some time known the finesses of this MasterBulmer as perfectly as if I had been at his elbow when he was playingall his dog's tricks with this family. You would hardly suspect now," hecontinued, in a confidential tone, "that what you were so desirous awhile ago should take place, has in some sense actually happened, andthat the marriage ceremony has really passed betwixt your sister andthis pretended Lord Etherington?"
"Have a care, sir!" said Mowbray, fiercely; "do not abuse mycandour--this is no place, time, or subject, for impertinent jesting."
"As I live by bread, I am serious," said Touchwood; "Mr. Cargillperformed the ceremony; and there are two living witnesses who heardthem say the words, 'I, Clara, take you, Francis,' or whatever theScottish church puts in place of that mystical formula."
"It is impossible," said Mowbray; "Cargill dared not have done such athing--a clandestine proceeding, such as you speak of, would have costhim his living. I'll bet my soul against a horse-shoe, it is all animposition; and you come to disturb me, sir, amid my family distress,with legends that have no more truth in them than the Alkoran."
"There are some true things in the Alkoran, (or rather, the Koran, forthe Al is merely the article prefixed,) but let that pass--I will raiseyour wonder higher before I am done. It is very true, that your sisterwas indeed joined in marriage with this same Bulmer, that calls himselfby the title of Etherington; but it is just as true, that the marriageis not worth a maravedi, for she believed him at the time to be anotherperson--to be, in a word, Francis Tyrrel, who is actually what the otherpretends to be, a nobleman of fortune."
"I cannot understand one word of all this," said Mowbray. "I must to mysister instantly, and demand of her if there be any real foundation forthese wonderful averments."
"Do not go," said Touchwood, detaining him, "you shall have a fullexplanation from me; and to comfort you under your perplexity, I canassure you that Cargill's consent to celebrate the nuptials, was onlyobtained by an aspersion thrown on your sister's character, whichinduced him to believe that speedy marriage would be the sole means ofsaving her reputation; and I am convinced in my own mind it is only therevival of this report which has furnished the foundation of LadyPenelope's chattering."
"If I could think so"--said Mowbray, "if I could but think this istruth--and it seems to explain, in some degree, my sister's mysteriousconduct--if I could but think it true, I should fall down and worshipyou as an angel from heaven!"
"A proper sort of angel," said Touchwood, looking modestly down on hisshort, sturdy supporters--"Did you ever hear of an angel in boot-hose?Or, do you suppose angels are sent to wait on broken-downhorse-jockeys?"
"Call me what you will, Mr. Touchwood," said the young man, "only makeout your story true, and my sister innocent!"
"Very well spoken, sir," answered the senior, "very well spoken! Butthen I understand, you are to be guided by my prudence and experience?None of your G-- damme doings, sir--your duels or your drubbings. Let_me_ manage the affair for you, and I will bring you through with aflowing sail."
"Sir, I must feel as a gentleman,"--said Mowbray.
"Feel as a fool," said Touchwood, "for that is the true case. Nothingwould please this Bulmer better than to fight through his rogueries--heknows very well, that he who can slit a pistol-ball on the edge of apenknife, will always preserve some sort of reputation amidst hisscoundrelism--but I shall take care to stop that hole. Sit down--be aman of sense, and listen to the whole of this strange story."
Mowbray sat down accordingly; and Touchwood, in his own way, and withmany characteristic interjectional remarks, gave him an account of theearly loves of Clara and Tyrrel--of the reasons which induced Bulmer atfirst to encourage their correspondence, in hopes that his brotherwould, by a clandestine marriage, altogether ruin himself with hisfather--of the change which took place in his views when he perceivedthe importance annexed by the old Earl to the union of Miss Mowbray withhis apparent heir--of the desperate stratagem which he endeavoured toplay off, by substituting himself in the room of his brother--and allthe consequences, which it is unnecessary to resume here, as they aredetailed at length by the perpetrator himself, in his correspondencewith Captain Jekyl.
When the whole communication was ended, Mowbray, almost stupified by thewonders he had heard, remained for some time in a sort of reverie, fromwhich he only started to ask what evidence could be produced of a storyso strange.
"The evidence," answered Touchwood, "of one who was a deep agent in allthese matters, from first to last--as complete a rogue, I believe, asthe devil himself, with this difference, that our mortal fiend does not,I believe, do evil for the sake of evil, but for the sake of the profitwhich attends it. How far this plea will avail him in a court ofconscience, I cannot tell; but his disposition was so far akin tohumanity, that I have always found my old acquaintance as ready to dogood as harm, providing he had the same _agio_ upon the transaction."
"On my soul," said Mowbray, "you must mean Solmes! whom I have longsuspected to be a deep villain--and now he proves traitor to boot. Howthe devil could you get into his intimacy, Mr. Touchwood?"
"The case was particular," said Touchwood. "Mr. Solmes, too active amember of the community to be satisfied with managing the affairs whichhis master intrusted to him, adventured in a little business on his ownaccount; and thinking, I suppose, that the late Earl of Etherington hadforgotten fully to acknowledge his services, as valet to his son, hesupplied that defect by a small check on our house for L.100, in name,and bearing the apparent signature, of the deceased. This small mistakebeing detected, Mr. Solmes, _porteur_ of the little billet, would havebeen consigned to the custody of a Bow-street officer, but that I foundmeans to relieve him, on condition of his making known to me the pointsof private history which I have just been communicating to you. What Ihad known of Tyrrel at Smyrna, had given me much interest in him, andyou may guess it was not lessened by the distresses which he hadsustained through his brother's treachery. By this fellow's means, Ihave counterplotted all his master's fine schemes. For example, as soonas I learned Bulmer was coming down here, I contrived to give Tyrrel ananonymous hint, well knowing he would set off like the devil to thwarthim, and so I should have the whole dramatis personae together, and playthem all off against each other, after my own pleasure."
"In that case," said Mr. Mowbray, "your expedient brought about therencontre between the two brothers, when both might have fallen."
"Can't deny it--can't deny it," answered Scrogie, a littlediscountenanced--"a mere accident--no one can guard every point.--Egad,but I had like to have been baffled again, for Bulmer sent the ladJekyl, who is not such a black sheep neither but what there are somewhite hairs about him, upon a treaty with Tyrrel, that my secret agentwas not admitted to. Gad, but I discovered the whole--you will scarceguess how."
"Probably not easily, indeed, sir," answered Mowbray; "for your sourcesof intelligence are not the most obvious, any more than your mode ofacting the most simple or most comprehensible."
"I would not have it so," said Touchwood; "simple men perish in theirsimplicity--I carry my eye-teeth about me.--And for my source ofinformation--why, I played the eavesdropper, sir--listened--knew mylandlady's cupboard with the double door--got into it as she has donemany a time.--Such a fine gentleman as
you would rather cut a man'sthroat, I suppose, than listen at a cupboard door, though the objectwere to prevent murder?"
"I cannot say I should have thought of the expedient, certainly, sir,"said Mowbray.
"I did, though," said Scrogie, "and learned enough of what was going on,to give Jekyl a hint that sickened him of his commission, I believe--sothe game is all in my own hands. Bulmer has no one to trust to butSolmes, and Solmes tells me every thing."
Here Mowbray could not suppress a movement of impatience.
"I wish to God, sir, that since you were so kind as to interest yourselfin affairs so intimately concerning my family, you had been pleased toact with a little more openness towards me. Here have I been for weeksthe intimate of a damned scoundrel, whose throat I ought to have cut forhis scandalous conduct to my sister. Here have I been rendering her andmyself miserable, and getting myself cheated every night by a swindler,whom you, if it had been your pleasure, could have unmasked by a singleword. I do all justice to your intentions, sir; but, upon my soul, Icannot help wishing you had conducted yourself with more frankness andless mystery; and I am truly afraid your love of dexterity has been toomuch for your ingenuity, and that you have suffered matters to run intosuch a skein of confusion, as you yourself will find difficulty inunravelling."
Touchwood smiled, and shook his head in all the conscious pride ofsuperior understanding. "Young man," he said, "when you have seen alittle of the world, and especially beyond the bounds of this narrowisland, you will find much more art and dexterity necessary inconducting these businesses to an issue, than occurs to a blind JohnBull, or a raw Scotchman. You will be then no stranger to the policy oflife, which deals in mining and countermining,--now in making feints,now in thrusting with forthright passes. I look upon you, Mr. Mowbray,as a young man spoiled by staying at home, and keeping bad company; andwill make it my business, if you submit yourself to my guidance, toinform your understanding, so as to retrieve your estate.--Don't--Don'tanswer me, sir! because I know too well, by experience, how young menanswer on these subjects--they are conceited, sir, as conceited as ifthey had been in all the four quarters of the world. I hate to beanswered, sir, I hate it. And, to tell you the truth, it is becauseTyrrel has a fancy of answering me, that I rather make you my confidanton this occasion, than him. I would have had him throw himself into myarms, and under my directions; but he hesitated--he hesitated, Mr.Mowbray--and I despise hesitation. If he thinks he has wit enough tomanage his own matters, let him try it--let him try it. Not but I willdo all I can for him, in fitting time and place; but I will let himdwell in his perplexities and uncertainties for a little while longer.And so, Mr. Mowbray, you see what sort of an odd fellow I am, and youcan satisfy me at once whether you mean to come into my measures--onlyspeak out at once, sir, for I abhor hesitation."
While Touchwood thus spoke, Mowbray was forming his resolutioninternally. He was not so inexperienced as the senior supposed; atleast, he could plainly see that he had to do with an obstinate,capricious old man, who, with the best intentions in the world, choseto have every thing in his own way; and, like most petty politicians,was disposed to throw intrigue and mystery over matters which had muchbetter be prosecuted boldly and openly. But he perceived at the sametime, that Touchwood, as a sort of relation, wealthy, childless, anddisposed to become his friend, was a person to be conciliated, therather that the traveller himself had frankly owned that it was FrancisTyrrel's want of deference towards him, which had forfeited, or at leastabated, his favour. Mowbray recollected, also, that the circumstancesunder which he himself stood, did not permit him to trifle withreturning gleams of good fortune. Subduing, therefore, the haughtinessof temper proper to him as an only son and heir, he answeredrespectfully, that, in his condition, the advice and assistance of Mr.Scrogie Touchwood were too important, not to be purchased at the priceof submitting his own judgment to that of an experienced and sagaciousfriend.
"Well said, Mr. Mowbray," replied the senior, "well said. Let me oncehave the management of your affairs, and we will brush them up for youwithout loss of time.--I must be obliged to you for a bed for the night,however--it is as dark as a wolf's mouth; and if you will give orders tokeep the poor devil of a postilion, and his horses too, why, I will bethe more obliged to you."
Mowbray applied himself to the bell. Patrick answered the call, and wasmuch surprised, when the old gentleman, taking the word out of hisentertainer's mouth, desired a bed to be got ready, with a little firein the grate; "for I take it, friend," he went on, "you have not guestshere very often.--And see that my sheets be not damp, and bid thehousemaid take care not to make the bed upon an exact level, but let itslope from the pillow to the footposts, at a declivity of about eighteeninches.--And hark ye--get me a jug of barley-water, to place by mybedside, with the squeeze of a lemon--or stay, you will make it as souras Beelzebub--bring the lemon on a saucer, and I will mix it myself."
Patrick listened like one of sense forlorn, his head turning like amandarin, alternately from the speaker to his master, as if to ask thelatter whether this was all reality. The instant that Touchwood stopped,Mowbray added his fiat.
"Let every thing be done to make Mr. Touchwood comfortable, in the wayhe wishes."
"Aweel, sir," said Patrick, "I shall tell Mally, to be sure, and we maundo our best, and--but it's unco late"----
"And, therefore," said Touchwood, "the sooner we get to bed the better,my old friend. I, for one, must be stirring early--I have business oflife and death--it concerns you too, Mr. Mowbray--but no more of thattill to-morrow.--And let the lad put up his horses, and get him a bedsomewhere."
Patrick here thought he had gotten upon firm ground for resistance, forwhich, displeased with the dictatorial manner of the stranger, he feltconsiderably inclined.
"Ye may catch us at that, if ye can," said Patrick; "there's nae postcattle come into our stables--What do we ken, but that they may beglandered, as the groom says?"
"We must take the risk to-night, Patrick," said Mowbray, reluctantlyenough--"unless Mr. Touchwood will permit the horses to come back earlynext morning?"
"Not I, indeed," said Touchwood; "safe bind safe find--it may be onceaway and aye away, and we shall have enough to do to-morrow morning.Moreover, the poor carrion are tired, and the merciful man is mercifulto his beast--and, in a word, if the horses go back to St. Ronan's Wellto-night, I go there for company."
It often happens, owing, I suppose, to the perversity of human nature,that subserviency in trifles is more difficult to a proud mind, thancompliance in matters of more importance. Mowbray, like other younggentlemen of his class, was finically rigid in his stable discipline,and even Lord Etherington's horses had not been admitted into that_sanctum sanctorum_, into which he now saw himself obliged to induct twowretched post-hacks. But he submitted with the best grace he could; andPatrick, while he left their presence, with lifted-up hands and eyes toexecute the orders he had received, could scarcely help thinking thatthe old man must be the devil in disguise, since he could thus suddenlycontrol his fiery master, even in the points which he had hithertoseemed to consider as of most vital importance.
"The Lord in his mercy haud a grip of this puir family! for I, that wasborn in it, am like to see the end of it." Thus ejaculated Patrick.