CHAPTER XV.
CHARLES'S "LIDDELL AND SCOTT."
A growing anxiety began to take possession of Charles shortly beforeChristmas, arising from the state of his father's health. Densil wasfailing. His memory was getting defective, and his sense dulled. His eyealways was searching for Charles, and he was uneasy at his absence. Soit was with a vague sense of impending misfortune that he got a letterfrom the Dean of his college, summoning him back after the Christmasvacation.
Mr. Dean said, "That Mr. Ravenshoe's case had been reconsidered, andthat at the warm, and, he thought, misguided, intercession of theBursar, a determination had been come to, to allow Mr. Ravenshoe to comeinto residence again for the Lent term. He trusted that this would be awarning, and that, while there was time, he would arrest himself in thatmiserable career of vice and folly which could only have onetermination--utter ruin in this world and in the next."
A college "Don," by long practice, acquires a power of hurting a youngman's feelings, utterly beyond competition, save by a police magistrate.Charles winced under this letter; but the same day Mary, coming singingdownstairs as was her wont, was alarmed by the descent of a large opaquebody of considerable weight down the well of the staircase, which lodgedin the wood basket at the bottom, and which, on examination, she foundto be a Liddell and Scott's Lexicon. At which she rejoiced; for sheconcluded that Charles had taken to reading again, though why he shouldbegin by throwing his books downstairs she could not well understand,until he joined her, and explained that he had been dusting it on thelanding, and that it had slipped out of his hand.
"What a crack it came down," added he; "I wish Father Mackworth's headhad been underneath it."
"I have no doubt of it, young gentleman," said the priest quietly frombehind; and there he was with his hand on the library door, and in hewent and shut it behind him.
Mary and Charles were both awfully disconcerted. Mary felt horriblyguilty; in fact, if the priest had remained quiet one moment more, hewould undoubtedly have heard one or two candid and far fromcomplimentary remarks about himself from that young lady, which wouldhave made his ears tingle.
"Confound him," said Charles; "how he glides about! He learned thattrick, and a few others, at that precious Jesuit College of his. Theyteach them that sort of thing as the old Jews teach the youngpickpockets. The old father inquisitor puts the door ajar with a bellagainst it, and they all have to come in one after another. The one whorings it gets dropped on to like blazes."
Mary was going to ask what exact amount of personal suffering beingdropped on to like blazes involved; but Charles stopped her, and tookher hand.
"Mary dear," he said, "do you ever think of the future?"
"Night and day, Charles,--night and day."
"If he dies, Mary? When he dies?"
"Night and day, brother," she answered, taking one of his great brownhands between her two white little palms. "I dream in my sleep of thenew regime which is to come, and I see only trouble, and again trouble."
"And then?"
"There is a God in heaven, Charles."
"Ay, but Mary, what will you do?"
"I?" and she laughed the merriest little laugh ever you heard. "Littleme? Why, go for a governess, to be sure. Charles, they shall love me sothat this life shall be a paradise. I will go into a family where thereare two beautiful girls; and, when I am old and withered, there shall betwo nurseries in which I shall be often welcome, where the childrenshall come babbling to my knee, the darlings, and they shall tell me howthey love me, almost as well as their mother. There is my future. Wouldyou change it?"
Charles was leaning against the oak banister; and, when he saw her therebefore him, when he saw that valiant, true-hearted face, in the lightwhich streamed from the old window above, he was rebuked, and bent downhis head on the rail. The Dean's letter of that morning had donesomething; but the sight of that brave little woman, so fearless withall the world before her, did more. She weak, friendless, moneyless, andso courageous! He with the strong arm, so cowardly! It taught him alesson indeed, a lesson he never forgot. But oh! for that terribleword--too late!
Ah! too late! What word is so terrible as that? You will see what I meansoon. That is the cry which one writer puts in the mouths of the lostspirits in hell. God's mercy is infinite, and it is yet a questionwhether it were better for Charles to have fallen into the groove ofordinary life, or to have gone through those humiliating scenes throughwhich we must follow him.
"Charley dear," said Mary, laying her hand on his shoulder, "it is notabout myself I am thinking; it is about you. What are you going to dowhen he has gone? are you going into the Church?"
"Oh, no!" said Charles, "I couldn't bear the idea of that."
"Then why are you at Oxford?"
"To get an education, I suppose."
"But what use will a university education be to you, Charles! Have youno plans?"
"I give you my word, my dear Mary, that I am as much in the dark aboutthe future as a five days old puppy."
"Has he made any provision for you?"
"Oh, yes! I am to have six thousand."
"Do you know that the estate is involved, Charles?"
"No."
"I believe it is. There has been a great deal of state kept up here, andI believe it is the case."
"Cuthbert would soon bring that round."
"I tremble to think of the future, Charles. Are your debts at Oxfordheavy?"
"Pretty well. Five hundred would clear me."
"Don't get any more in debt, that's a dear."
"No, Mary dear, I won't. I don't care for the future. I shall have L180a year. That will be enough for William and me. Then I shall go to thebar, and make a deuce of a lot of money, and marry Adelaide. Then youwill come to live with us, and we shall have such jolly times ofit.--Take that, you villain!"
This last elegant apostrophe was addressed to William (who at thatmoment had come in by the side door), and was accompanied by thedexterous delivery of the Liddell and Scott, in the manner of a cricketball. Our friend William stood to catch it in a style worthy of Box,with his knees a yard apart, and one palm over the other; but as luckwould have it, he missed it, and it alighted full on the shins of FatherMackworth, who had selected that time for coming out of the library; andso it lay sillily open at [Greek: lam, gem.] at his feet.
Mackworth really thought that it was intentional, and was furious. Hewent back into the library; and Charles, seeing what must come, followedhim, while Mary fled upstairs. There was no one in the room but Cuthbertand Father Tiernay.
"I will be protected from insult in this house," began Mackworth; "twiceto-day I have been insulted by Mr. Charles Ravenshoe, and I demandprotection."
"What have you been doing, Charley?" said Cuthbert. "I thought you twohad given up quarrelling. You will wear my life out. Sometimes, whatwith one thing and another, I wish I were dead. Oh! if the great problemwere solved! Surely my brother may avoid brawling with a priest, a mansacred by his office, though of another faith. Surely my brother hastaste enough to see the propriety of that."
"Your brother has no taste or sense, sir," said Father Mackworth. "Hehas no decency. He has no gentlemanly feeling. Within ten minutes he hasdropped a book downstairs, and lamented, to my face, that it hadn'tfallen on my head; and just now he has thrown the same book at me, andhit me with it."
"I thank God, Charles," said poor weary Cuthbert, "that our father isspared this. It would kill him. Brother, brother, why do you vex me likethis? I have always stood on your side, Charley. Don't let me be killedwith these ceaseless brawls."
"They will soon cease, sir," said Father Mackworth; "I leave this houseto-morrow."
"Cuthbert, hear me now. I never intended to insult him."
"Why did you throw your book at him, Charley? It is not decorous. Youmust know when you wound him you wound me. And I have fought suchbattles for you, Charley."
"Cuthbert! brother! do hear me. And let him hear me. And let FatherTiernay hear me. Cuth
bert, you know I love you. Father Tiernay, you area good and honest man; hear what I have to say. You, Mackworth, you area scoundrel. You are a double-dyed villain. What were you doing withthat girl in the wood, the day you hunted the black hare a month ago?Cuthbert, tell me, like an honest gentleman, did you ever walk in thewood with Ellen?"
"I?" said Cuthbert, scared; "I never walked with Ellen there. I havewalked with Mary there, brother. Why should I not?"
"There, look at the lie that this man has put into her mouth. She toldme that he had found you and her walking together there."
"I am not answerable for any young woman's lies," said FatherMackworth. "I decline to continue this discussion. It is humiliating. Asfor you, you poor little moth," he said, turning to Charles, "when thetime comes, I will crush you with my thumb against the wall. My likingfor your father prevents my doing my duty as yet. In that I err. Wait."
Charles had been in a passion before this; but, seeing danger, and realdanger, abroad, he got cool, and said--
"Wait."
And they both waited, and we shall see who waited the longest.
"I have done it now, Mary dear," said Charles, returning upstairs withthe unlucky lexicon. "It is all over now."
"Has there been a scene?"
"A terrible scene. I swore at him, and called him a villain."
"Why did you do that, Charles? Why are you so violent? You are notyourself, Charles, when you give way to your temper like that."
"Well, I'll tell you, my robin. He is a villain."
"I don't think so, Charles. I believe he is a high-minded man."
"I know he is not, birdie. At least, I believe he is not."
"I believe him to be so, Charles."
"I know him to be otherwise; at least, I think so."
"Are you doing him justice, Charley dear? Are you sure you are doing himjustice?"
"I think so."
"Why?"
"I cannot tell you, Mary. When the end of all things comes, and you andI are thrown abroad like two corks on the great sea, you will know. ButI cannot tell you."
"I believe, dear, that you are so honest that you would not do injusticeeven to him. But, oh! be sure that you are right. Hush! Change thesubject. What were you going to read when that unlucky book felldownstairs?"
"Demosthenes."
"Let me come in and sit with you, Charley dear, and look out the words;you don't know how clever I am. Is it the 'De Corona'?"
Charles took her hand and kissed it; and so they two poor fools went onwith their Demosthenes.