CHAPTER XLIX. Friends in Need
Quick, hackneycoach steeds, and bear George Warrington through Strandand Fleet Street to his imprisoned brother's rescue! Any one whoremembers Hogarth's picture of a London hackneycoach and a London streetroad at that period, may fancy how weary the quick time was, and howlong seemed the journey:--scarce any lights, save those carried bylink-boys; badly hung coaches; bad pavements; great holes in the road,and vast quagmires of winter mud. That drive from Piccadilly to FleetStreet seemed almost as long to our young man, as the journey fromMarlborough to London which he had performed in the morning.
He had written to Harry, announcing his arrival at Bristol. He hadpreviously written to his brother, giving the great news of hisexistence and his return from captivity. There was war between Englandand France at that time; the French privateers were for ever on thelook-out for British merchant-ships, and seized them often within sightof port. The letter bearing the intelligence of George's restorationmust have been on board one of the many American ships of which theFrench took possession. The letter telling of George's arrival inEngland was never opened by poor Harry; it was lying at the latter'sapartments, which it reached on the third morning after Harry'scaptivity, when the angry Mr. Ruff had refused to give up any singleitem more of his lodger's property.
To these apartments George first went on his arrival in London,and asked for his brother. Scared at the likeness between them, themaid-servant who opened the door screamed, and ran back to her mistress.The mistress not liking to tell the truth, or to own that poor Harry wasactually a prisoner at her husband's suit, said Mr. Warrington had lefthis lodgings; she did not know where Mr. Warrington was. George knewthat Clarges Street was close to Bond Street. Often and often had helooked over the London map. Aunt Bernstein would tell him where Harrywas. He might be with her at that very moment. George had read inHarry's letters to Virginia about Aunt Bernstein's kindness to Harry.Even Madam Esmond was softened by it (and especially touched by a letterwhich the Baroness wrote--the letter which caused George to pack offpost-haste for Europe, indeed). She heartily hoped and trusted thatMadam Beatrix had found occasion to repent of her former bad ways. Itwas time, indeed, at her age; and Heaven knows that she had plentyto repent of! I have known a harmless, good old soul of eighty, stillbepommelled and stoned by irreproachable ladies of the straitest sect ofthe Pharisees, for a little slip which occurred long before the presentcentury was born, or she herself was twenty years old. Rachel Esmondnever mentioned her eldest daughter: Madam Esmond Warrington nevermentioned her sister. No. In spite of the order for remission of thesentence--in spite of the handwriting on the floor of the Temple--thereis a crime which some folks never will pardon, and regarding whichfemale virtue, especially, is inexorable.
I suppose the Virginians' agent at Bristol had told George fearfulstories of his brother's doings. Gumbo, whom he met at his aunt's door,as soon as the lad recovered from his terror at the sudden reappearanceof the master whom he supposed dead, had leisure to stammer out a wordor two respecting his young master's whereabouts, and present pitiablecondition; and hence Mr. George's sternness of demeanour when hepresented himself to the old lady. It seemed to him a matter of coursethat his brother in difficulty should be rescued by his relations. Oh,George, how little you know about London and London ways! Whenever youtake your walks abroad how many poor you meet--if a philanthropist werefor rescuing all of them, not all the wealth of all the provinces ofAmerica would suffice him!
But the feeling and agitation displayed by the old lady touched hernephew's heart when, jolting through the dark streets towards thehouse of his brother's captivity, George came to think of his aunt'sbehaviour. "She does feel my poor Harry's misfortune," he thought tohimself, "I have been too hasty in judging her." Again and again, in thecourse of his life, Mr. George had to rebuke himself with the same crimeof being too hasty. How many of us have not? And, alas, the mischiefdone, there's no repentance will mend it. Quick, coachman! We are almostas slow as you are in getting from Clarges Street to the Temple. PoorGumbo knows the way to the bailiff's house well enough. Again the bellis set ringing. The first door is opened to George and his negro; thenthat first door is locked warily upon them, and they find themselvesin a little passage with a little Jewish janitor; then a second door isunlocked, and they enter into the house. The Jewish janitor stares, asby his flaring tallow-torch he sees a second Mr. Warrington beforehim. Come to see that gentleman? Yes. But wait a moment. This is Mr.Warrington's brother from America. Gumbo must go and prepare his masterfirst. Step into this room. There's a gentleman already there aboutMr. W.'s business (the porter says), and another upstairs with him now.There's no end of people have been about him.
The room into which George was introduced was a small apartment whichwent by the name of Mr. Amos's office, and where, by a guttering candle,and talking to the bailiff, sat a stout gentleman in a cloak and a lacedhat. The young porter carried his candle, too, preceding Mr. George, sothere was a sufficiency of light in the apartment.
"We are not angry any more, Harry!" says the stout gentleman, in acheery voice, getting up and advancing with an outstretched hand tothe new-comer. "Thank God, my boy! Mr. Amos here says, there will beno difficulty about James and me being your bail, and we will do yourbusiness by breakfast-time in the morning. Why... Angels and ministersof grace! who are you?" And he started back as the other had hold of hishand.
But the stranger grasped it only the more strongly. "God bless you,sir!" he said, "I know who you are. You must be Colonel Lambert, ofwhose kindness to him my poor Harry wrote. And I am the brother whom youhave heard of, sir; and who was left for dead in Mr. Braddock's action;and came to life again after eighteen months amongst the French;and live to thank God and thank you for your kindness to my Harry,"continued the lad with a faltering voice.
"James! James! Here is news!" cries Mr. Lambert to a gentleman in red,who now entered the room. "Here are the dead come alive! Here is HarryScapegrace's brother come back, and with his scalp on his head, too!"(George had taken his hat off, and was standing by the light.) "This ismy brother-bail, Mr. Warrington! This is Lieutenant-Colonel JamesWolfe, at your service. You must know there has been a little differencebetween Harry and me, Mr. George. He is pacified, is he, James?"
"He is full of gratitude," says Mr. Wolfe, after making his bow to Mr.Warrington.
"Harry wrote home about Mr. Wolfe, too, sir," said the young man, "and Ihope my brother's friends will be so kind as to be mine."
"I wish he had none other but us, Mr. Warrington. Poor Harry's finefolks have been too fine for him, and have ended by landing him here."
"Nay, your honours, I have done my best to make the young gentlemancomfortable; and, knowing your honour before, when you came to bailCaptain Watkins, and that your security is perfectly good,--if yourhonour wishes, the young gentleman can go out this very night, and Iwill make it all right with the lawyer in the morning," says Harry'slandlord, who knew the rank and respectability of the two gentlemen whohad come to offer bail for his young prisoner.
"The debt is five hundred and odd pounds, I think?" said Mr. Warrington."With a hundred thanks to these gentlemen, I can pay the amount at thismoment into the officers' hands, taking the usual acknowledgment andcaution. But I can never forget, gentlemen, that you helped my brotherat his need, and, for doing so, I say thank you, and God bless you, inmy mother's name and mine."
Gumbo had, meanwhile, gone upstairs to his master's apartment, whereHarry would probably have scolded the negro for returning that night,but that the young gentleman was very much soothed and touched by theconversation he had had with the friend who had just left him. He wassitting over his pipe of Virginia in a sad mood (for, somehow, evenMaria's goodness and affection, as she had just exhibited them, had notaltogether consoled him; and he had thought, with a little dismay, ofcertain consequences to which that very kindness and fidelity boundhim), when Mr. Wolfe's homely features and eager outstretched hand cameto cheer the prisoner, and he hea
rd how Mr. Lambert was below, andthe errand upon which the two officers had come. In spite of himself,Lambert would be kind to him. In spite of Harry's ill-temper, andneedless suspicion and anger, the good gentleman was determined to helphim if he might--to help him even against Mr. Wolfe's own advice, as thelatter frankly told Harry, "For you were wrong, Mr. Warrington," saidthe Colonel, "and you wouldn't be set right; and you, a young man, usedhard words and unkind behaviour to your senior, and what is more, one ofthe best gentlemen who walks God's earth. You see, sir, what his answerhath been to your wayward temper. You will bear with a friend who speaksfrankly with you? Martin Lambert hath acted in this as he always doth,as the best Christian, the best friend, the most kind and generous ofmen. Nay, if you want another proof of his goodness, here it is: He hasconverted me, who, as I don't care to disguise, was angry with you foryour treatment of him, and has absolutely brought me down here to beyour bail. Let us both cry Peccavimus! Harry, and shake our friend bythe hand! He is sitting in the room below. He would not come here tillhe knew how you would receive him."
"I think he is a good man!" groaned out Harry. "I was very angry andwild at the time when he and I met last, Colonel Wolfe. Nay, perhaps hewas right in sending back those trinkets, hurt as I was at his doing so.Go down to him, will you be so kind, sir? and tell him I am sorry, andask his pardon, and--and, God bless him for his generous behaviour."And here the young gentleman turned his head away, and rubbed his handacross his eyes.
"Tell him all this thyself, Harry!" cries the Colonel, taking the youngfellow's hand. "No deputy will ever say it half so well. Come with menow."
"You go first, and I'll--I'll follow,--on my word I will. See! I am inmy morning-gown! I will but put on a coat and come to him. Give him mymessage first. Just--just prepare him for me!" says poor Harry, whoknew he must do it, but yet did not much like that process of eating ofhumble-pie.
Wolfe went out smiling--understanding the lad's scruples well enough,perhaps. As he opened the door, Mr. Gumbo entered it; almost forgettingto bow to the gentleman, profusely courteous as he was on ordinaryoccasions,--his eyes glaring round, his great mouth grinning--himself ina state of such high excitement and delight that his master remarked hiscondition.
"What, Gum? What has happened to thee? Hast thou got a new sweetheart?"
No, Gum had not got no new sweetheart, master.
"Give me my coat. What has brought thee back?"
Gum grinned prodigiously. "I have seen a ghost, mas'r!" he said.
"A ghost! and whose, and where?"
"Whar? Saw him at Madame Bernstein's house. Come with him here inthe coach! He downstairs now with Colonel Lambert!" Whilst Gumbo isspeaking, as he is putting on his master's coat, his eyes are rolling,his head is wagging, his hands are trembling, his lips are grinning.
"Ghost--what ghost?" says Harry, in a strange agitation. Isanybody--is--my mother come?"
"No, sir; no, Master Harry!" Gumbo's head rolls nearly off its violentconvolutions, and his master, looking oddly at him, flings the dooropen, and goes rapidly down the stair.
He is at the foot of it, just as a voice within the little office, ofwhich the door is open, is saying, "and for doing so, I say thank you,and God bless you, in my mother's name and mine."
"Whose voice is that?" calls out Harry Warrington, with a strange cry inhis own voice.
"It's the ghost's, mas'r!" says Gumbo, from behind; and Harry runsforward to the room,--where, if you please, we will pause a littleminute before we enter. The two gentlemen who were there, turned theirheads away. The lost was found again. The dead was alive. Theprodigal was on his brother's heart,--his own full of love, gratitude,repentance.
"Come away, James! I think we are not wanted any more here," says theColonel. "Good-night, boys. Some ladies in Hill Street won't be able tosleep for this strange news. Or will you go home and sup with 'em, andtell them the story?"
No, with many thanks, the boys would not go and sup to-night. They hadstories of their own to tell. "Quick, Gumbo, with the trunks! Good-bye,Mr. Amos!" Harry felt almost unhappy when he went away.