Page 25 of The Virginians


  CHAPTER XXV. New Acquaintances

  Cousin Maria made her appearance, attended by a couple of gardener'sboys bearing baskets of flowers, with which it was proposed to decorateMadame de Bernstein's drawing-room against the arrival of her ladyship'scompany. Three footmen in livery, gorgeously laced with worsted, set outtwice as many card-tables. A major-domo in black and a bag, with finelaced ruffles; and looking as if he ought to have a sword by his side,followed the lacqueys bearing fasces of wax candles, which he placeda pair on each card-table, and in the silver sconces on the wainscotedwall that was now gilt with the slanting rays of the sun, as was theprospect of the green common beyond, with its rocks and clumps of treesand houses twinkling in the sunshine. Groups of many-coloured figures inhoops and powder and brocade sauntered over the green, and dappled theplain with their shadows. On the other side from the Baroness's windowsyou saw the Pantiles, where a perpetual fair was held, and heard theclatter and buzzing of the company. A band of music was here performingfor the benefit of the visitors to the Wells. Madame Bernstein's chiefsitting-room might not suit a recluse or a student, but for those wholiked bustle, gaiety, a bright cross light, and a view of all that wasgoing on in the cheery busy place, no lodging could be pleasanter. Andwhen the windows were lighted up, the passengers walking below wereaware that her ladyship was at home and holding a card-assembly, towhich an introduction was easy enough. By the way, in speaking of thepast, I think the night-life of society a hundred years since was rathera dark life. There was not one wax-candle for ten which we now see in alady's drawing-room: let alone gas and the wondrous new illuminationsof clubs. Horrible guttering tallow smoked and stunk in passages. Thecandle-snuffer was a notorious officer in the theatre. See Hogarth'spictures: how dark they are, and how his feasts are, as it were,begrimed with tallow! In "Marriage a la Mode," in Lord ViscountSquanderfield's grand saloons, where he and his wife are sitting yawningbefore the horror-stricken steward when their party is over--there arebut eight candles--one on each card-table, and half a dozen in a brasschandelier. If Jack Briefless convoked his friends to oysters and beerin his chambers, Pump Court, he would have twice as many. Let us comfortourselves by thinking that Louis Quatorze in all his glory held hisrevels in the dark, and bless Mr. Price and other Luciferous benefactorsof mankind, for banishing the abominable mutton of our youth.

  So Maria with her flowers (herself the fairest flower), popped herroses, sweet-williams, and so forth, in vases here and there, andadorned the apartment to the best of her art. She lingered fondly overthis bowl and that dragon jar, casting but sly timid glances the whileat young cousin Harry, whose own blush would have become any youngwoman, and you might have thought that she possibly intended to outstayher aunt; but that Baroness, seated in her arm-chair, her crookedtortoiseshell stick in her hand, pointed the servants imperiously totheir duty; rated one and the other soundly: Tom for having a darn inhis stocking; John for having greased his locks too profusely out of thecandle-box; and so forth--keeping a stern domination over them. Anotherremark concerning poor Jeames of a hundred years ago: Jeames slept twoin a bed, four in a room, and that room a cellar very likely, and hewashed in a trough such as you would hardly see anywhere in London nowout of the barracks of her Majesty's Foot Guards.

  If Maria hoped a present interview, her fond heart was disappointed."Where are you going to dine, Harry?" asks Madame de Bernstein. "Myniece Maria and I shall have a chicken in the little parlour--I thinkyou should go to the best ordinary. There is one at the White Horseat three, we shall hear his bell in a minute or two. And you willunderstand, sir, that you ought not to spare expense, but behave likePrincess Pocahontas's son. Your trunks have been taken over to thelodging I have engaged for you. It is not good for a lad to be alwayshanging about the aprons of two old women. Is it, Maria?"

  "No," says her ladyship, dropping her meek eyes; whilst the other lady'sglared in triumph. I think Andromeda had been a good deal exposed to theDragon in the course of the last five or six days: and if Perseushad cut the latter's cruel head off he would have committed notunjustifiable monstricide. But he did not bare sword or shield; he onlylooked mechanically at the lacqueys in tawny and blue as they creakedabout the room.

  "And there are good mercers and tailors from London always here to waiton the company at the Wells. You had better see them, my dear, for yoursuit is not of the very last fashion--a little lace----"

  "I can't go out of mourning, ma'am," said the young man, looking down athis sables.

  "Ho, sir," cried the lady, rustling up from her chair and rising on hercane, "wear black for your brother till you are as old as Methuselah,if you like. I am sure I don't want to prevent you. I only want you todress, and to do like other people, and make a figure worthy of yourname."

  "Madam," said Mr. Warrington with great state, "I have not done anythingto disgrace it that I know."

  Why did the old Woman stop and give a little start as if she had beenstruck? Let bygones be bygones. She and the boy had a score of littlepassages of this kind in which swords were crossed and thrusts rapidlydealt or parried. She liked Harry none the worse for his courage infacing her. "Sure a little finer linen than that shirt you wear will notbe a disgrace to you, sir," she said, with rather a forced laugh.

  Harry bowed and blushed. It was one of the homely gifts of his Oakhurstfriends. He felt pleased somehow to think he wore it; thought of thenew friends, so good, so pure, so simple, so kindly, with immensetenderness, and felt, while invested in this garment, as if evil couldnot touch him. He said he would go to his lodging, and make a point ofreturning arrayed in the best linen he had.

  "Come back here, sir," said Madame Bernstein, "and if our company hasnot arrived, Maria and I will find some ruffles for you!" And herewith,under a footman's guidance, the young fellow walked off to his newlodgings.

  Harry found not only handsome and spacious apartments provided for him,but a groom in attendance waiting to be engaged by his honour, and asecond valet, if he was inclined to hire one to wait upon Mr. Gumbo. Erehe had been many minutes in his rooms, emissaries from a London tailorand bootmaker waited him with the cards and compliments of theiremployers, Messrs. Regnier and Tull; the best articles in his modestwardrobe were laid out by Gumbo, and the finest linen with whichhis thrifty Virginian mother had provided him. Visions of thesnow-surrounded home in his own country, of the crackling logs and thetrim quiet ladies working by the fire, rose up before him. For thefirst time a little thought that the homely clothes were not quite smartenough, the home-worked linen not so fine as it might be, crossed theyoung man's mind. That he should be ashamed of anything belonging to himor to Castlewood! That was strange. The simple folks there were only toowell satisfied with all things that were done, or said, or producedat Castlewood; and Madam Esmond, when she sent her son forth on histravels, thought no young nobleman need be better provided. The clothesmight have fitted better and been of a later fashion, to be sure--butstill the young fellow presented a comely figure enough when he issuedfrom his apartments, his toilet over; and Gumbo calling a chair, marchedbeside it, until they reached the ordinary where the young gentleman wasto dine.

  Here he expected to find the beau whose acquaintance he had made a fewhours before at his aunt's lodging, and who had indicated to Harry thatthe White Horse was the most modish place for dining at the Wells, andhe mentioned his friend's name to the host: but the landlord and waitersleading him into the room with many smiles and bows assured his honourthat his honour did not need any other introduction than his own, helpedhim to hang up his coat and sword on a peg, asked him whether he woulddrink Burgundy, Pontac, or champagne to his dinner, and led him to atable.

  Though the most fashionable ordinary in the village, the White Horse didnot happen to be crowded on this day. Monsieur Barbeau, the landlord,informed Harry that there was a great entertainment at Summer Hill,which had taken away most of the company; indeed, when Harry enteredthe room, there were but four other gentlemen in it. Two of these guestswere drinking wine, an
d had finished their dinner: the other two wereyoung men in the midst of their meal, to whom the landlord, as hepassed, must have whispered the name of the new-comer, for they lookedat him with some appearance of interest, and made him a slight bowacross the table as the smiling host bustled away for Harry's dinner.

  Mr. Warrington returned the salute of the two gentlemen, who bade himwelcome to Tunbridge, and hoped he would like the place upon betteracquaintance. Then they smiled and exchanged waggish looks with eachother, of which Harry did not understand the meaning, nor why they castknowing glances at the two other guests over their wine.

  One of these persons was in a somewhat tarnished velvet coat with a hugequeue and bag, and voluminous ruffles and embroidery. The other was alittle beetle-browed, hook-nosed, high-shouldered gentleman, whom hisopposite companion addressed as milor, or my lord, in a very high voice.My lord, who was sipping the wine before him, barely glanced at thenew-comer, and then addressed himself to his own companion.

  "And so you know the nephew of the old woman--the Croesus who comes toarrive?"

  "You're thrown out there, Jack!" says one young gentleman to the other.

  "Never could manage the lingo," said Jack. The two elders had begun tospeak in the French language.

  "But assuredly, my dear lord!" says the gentleman with the long queue.

  "You have shown energy, my dear Baron! He has been here but two hours.My people told me of him only as I came to dinner."

  "I knew him before!--I have met him often in London with the Baronessand my lord, his cousin," said the Baron.

  A smoking soup for Harry here came in, borne by the smiling host."Behold, sir! Behold a potage of my fashion!" says my landlord, layingdown the dish and whispering to Harry the celebrated name of thenobleman opposite. Harry thanked Monsieur Barbeau in his own language,upon which the foreign gentleman, turning round, grinned most graciouslyat Harry, and said, "Fous bossedez notre langue barfaidement, monsieur."Mr. Warrington had never heard the French language pronounced in thatmanner in Canada. He bowed in return to the foreign gentleman.

  "Tell me more about the Croesus, my good Baron," continued his lordship,speaking rather superciliously to his companion, and taking no notice ofHarry, which perhaps somewhat nettled the young man.

  "What will you, that I tell you, my dear lord? Croesus is a youth likeother youths; he is tall, like other youths; he is awkward, like otheryouths; he has black hair, as they all have who come from the Indies.Lodgings have been taken for him at Mrs. Rose's toy-shop."

  "I have lodgings there too," thought Mr. Warrington. "Who is Croesusthey are talking of? How good the soup is!"

  "He travels with a large retinue," the Baron continued, "four servants,two postchaises, and a pair of outriders. His chief attendant is a blackman who saved his life from the savages in America, and who willnot hear, on any account, of being made free. He persists in wearingmourning for his elder brother from whom he inherits his principality."

  "Could anything console you for the death of yours, Chevalier?" criedout the elder gentleman.

  "Milor! his property might," said the Chevalier, "which you know is notsmall."

  "Your brother lives on his patrimony--which you have told me isimmense--you by your industry, my dear Chevalier."

  "Milor!" cries the individual addressed as Chevalier.

  "By your industry or your esprit,--how much more noble! Shall you beat the Baroness's to-night? She ought to be a little of your parents,Chevalier?"

  "Again I fail to comprehend your lordship," said the other gentleman,rather sulkily.

  "Why, she is a woman of great wit--she is of noble birth--she hasundergone strange adventures--she has but little principle (there youhappily have the advantage of her). But what care we men of the world?You intend to go and play with the young Creole, no doubt, and get asmuch money from him as you can. By the way, Baron, suppose he shouldbe a guet-apens, that young Creole? Suppose our excellent friend hasinvented him up in London, and brings him down with his character forwealth to prey upon the innocent folks here?"

  "J'y ai souvent pense, milor," says the little Baron, placing his fingerto his nose very knowingly, "that Baroness is capable of anything."

  "A Baron--a Baroness, que voulez-vous, my friend? I mean the latelamented husband. Do you know who he was?"

  "Intimately. A more notorious villain never dealt a card. At Venice, atBrussels, at Spa, at Vienna--the gaols of every one of which places heknew. I knew the man, my lord."

  "I thought you would. I saw him at the Hague, where I first had thehonour of meeting you, and a more disreputable rogue never entered mydoors. A minister must open them to all sorts of people, Baron,--spies,sharpers, ruffians of every sort."

  "Parbleu, milor, how you treat them!" says my lord's companion.

  "A man of my rank, my friend--of the rank I held then--of course, mustsee all sorts of people--entre autres your acquaintance. What his wifecould want with such a name as his I can't conceive."

  "Apparently, it was better than the lady's own."

  "Effectively! So I have heard of my friend Paddy changing clothes withthe scarecrow. I don't know which name is the most distinguished, thatof the English bishop or the German baron."

  "My lord," cried the other gentleman, rising and laying his hand ona large star on his coat, "you forget that I, too, am a Baron and aChevalier of the Holy Roman----"

  "--Order of the Spur!--not in the least, my dear knight and baron!You will have no more wine? We shall meet at Madame de Bernstein'sto-night." The knight and baron quitted the table, felt in hisembroidered pockets, as if for money to give the waiter, who brought himhis great laced hat, and waving that menial off with a hand surroundedby large ruffles and blazing rings, he stalked away from the room.

  It was only when the person addressed as my lord had begun to speak ofthe bishop's widow and the German baron's wife that Harry Warringtonwas aware how his aunt and himself had been the subject of the twogentlemen's conversation. Ere the conviction had settled itself on hismind, one of the speakers had quitted the room, and the other, turningto a table at which two gentlemen sate, said, "What a little sharper itis! Everything I said about Bernstein relates mutato nomine to him. Iknew the fellow to be a spy and a rogue. He has changed his religion Idon't know how many times. I had him turned out of the Hague myself whenI was ambassador, and I know he was caned in Vienna."

  "I wonder my Lord Chesterfield associates with such a villain!" calledout Harry from his table. The other couple of diners looked at him. Tohis surprise the nobleman so addressed went on talking.

  "There cannot be a more fieffe coquin than this Poellnitz. Why, Heavenbe thanked, he has actually left me my snuff-box! You laugh?--the fellowis capable of taking it." And my lord thought it was his own satire atwhich the young men were laughing.

  "You are quite right, sir," said one of the two diners, turning to Mr.Warrington, "though, saving your presence, I don't know what business itis of yours. My lord will play with anybody who will set him. Don't bealarmed, he is as deaf as a post, and did not hear a word that you said;and that's why my lord will play with anybody who will put a pack ofcards before him, and that is the reason why he consorts with thisrogue."

  "Faith, I know other noblemen who are not particular as to theircompany," says Mr. Jack.

  "Do you mean because I associate with you? I know my company, my goodfriend, and I defy most men to have the better of me."

  Not having paid the least attention to Mr. Warrington's angryinterruption, my lord opposite was talking in his favourite French withMonsieur Barbeau, the landlord, and graciously complimenting him onhis dinner. The host bowed again and again; was enchanted that hisExcellency was satisfied: had not forgotten the art which he had learnedwhen he was a young man in his Excellency's kingdom of Ireland. Thesalmi was to my lord's liking? He had just served a dish to the youngAmerican seigneur who sate opposite, the gentleman from Virginia.

  "To whom?" My lord's pale face became red for a moment, as he asked thi
squestion, and looked towards Harry Warrington, opposite to him.

  "To the young gentleman from Virginia who has just arrived, and whoperfectly possesses our beautiful language!" says Mr. Barbeau, thinkingto kill two birds, as it were, with this one stone of a compliment.

  "And to whom your lordship will be answerable for language reflectingupon my family, and uttered in the presence of these gentlemen,"cried out Mr. Warrington, at the top of his voice, determined that hisopponent should hear.

  "You must go and call into his ear, and then he may perchance hear you,"said one of the younger guests.

  "I will take care that his lordship shall understand my meaning, one wayor other," Mr. Warrington said, with much dignity; "and will not suffercalumnies regarding my relatives to be uttered by him or any other man!"

  Whilst Harry was speaking, the little nobleman opposite to him didnot hear him, but had time sufficient to arrange his own reply. He hadrisen, passing his handkerchief once or twice across his mouth, andlaying his slim fingers on the table. "Sir," said he, "you will believe,on the word of a gentleman, that I had no idea before whom I wasspeaking, and it seems that my acquaintance, Monsieur de Poellnitz, knewyou no better than myself. Had I known you, believe me that I shouldhave been the last man in the world to utter a syllable that should giveyou annoyance; and I tender you my regrets and apologies, before my LordMarch and Mr. Morris here present."

  To these words, Mr. Warrington could only make a bow, and mumble out afew words of acknowledgment: which speech having made believe to hear,my lord made Harry another very profound bow, and saying he should havethe honour of waiting upon Mr. Warrington at his lodgings, saluted thecompany, and went away.