CHAPTER XXX.
MR. SLOANE.
Charles Ravenshoe had committed suicide--committed suicide asdeliberately as any maddened wretch had done that day in all the widemiserable world. He knew it very well, and was determined to go on withit. He had not hung himself, or drowned himself, but he had committeddeliberate suicide, and he knew--knew well--that his obstinacy wouldcarry him through to the end.
What is suicide, nine cases out of ten? Any one can tell you. It is theact of a mad, proud coward, who flies, by his own deed, not fromhumiliation or disgrace, but, as he fancies, from feeling theconsequences of them--who flies to unknown, doubtful evils, sooner thanbear positive, present, undoubted ones. All this had Charles done,buoying him up with this excuse and that excuse, and fancying that hewas behaving, the cur, like Bayard, or Lieutenant Willoughby--a greaterthan Bayard--all the time.
The above is Charles's idea of the matter himself, put in the thirdperson for form's sake. I don't agree with all he says about himself. Idon't deny that he did a very foolish thing, but I incline to believethat there was something noble and self-reliant in his doing it. Think amoment. He had only two courses open to him--the one (I put it coarsely)to eat humble-pie, to go back to Cuthbert and Mackworth, and accepttheir offers; the other to do as he had done--to go alone into theworld, and stand by himself. He did the latter, as we shall see. Hecould not face Ravenshoe, or any connected with it, again. It had beenproved that he was an unwilling impostor, of base, low blood; and hissister--ah! one more pang, poor heart!--his sister Ellen, what was she?
Little doubt--little doubt! Better for both of them if they had neverbeen born! He was going to London, and, perhaps, might meet her there!All the vice and misery of the country got thrown into that cesspool.When anything had got too foul for the pure country air, men said, Awaywith it; throw it into the great dunghill, and let it rot there. Was henot going there himself? It was fit she should be there before him! Theywould meet for certain!
How would they meet? Would she be in silks and satins, or in rags?flaunting in her carriage, or shivering in an archway? What matter? wasnot shame the heritage of the "lower orders"? The pleasures of the richmust be ministered to by the "lower orders," or what was the use ofmoney or rank? He was one of the lower orders now. He must learn hislesson; learn to cringe and whine like the rest of them. It would behard, but it must be learnt. The dogs rose against it sometimes, but itnever paid.
The devil was pretty busy with poor Charles in his despair, you see.This was all he had left after three and twenty years of carelessidleness and luxury. His creed had been, "I am a Ravenshoe," and lo! onemorning, he was a Ravenshoe no longer. A poor crow, that had beenfancying himself an eagle. A crow! "by heavens," he thought, "he was noteven that." A nonentity, turned into the world to find his own value!What were honour, honesty, virtue to him? Why, nothing--words! He musttruckle and pander for his living. Why not go back and truckle to FatherMackworth? There was time yet.
No!
Why not? Was it pride only? We have no right to say what it was. If itwas only pride, it was better than nothing. Better to have that strawonly to cling to, than to be all alone in the great sea with nothing. Wehave seen that he has done nothing good, with circumstances all in hisfavour; let us see if he can in any way hold his own, with circumstancesall against him.
"America?" he thought once. "They are all gentlemen there. If I couldonly find her, and tear her jewels off, we would go there together. Butshe must be found--she must be found. I will never leave England tillshe goes with me. We shall be brought together. We shall see oneanother. I love her as I never loved her before. What a sweet, gentlelittle love she was! My darling! And, when I have kissed her, I neverdreamed she was my sister. My pretty love! Ellen, Ellen, I am coming toyou. Where are you, my love?"
He was alone, in a railway carriage, leaning out to catch the freshwind, as he said this. He said it once again, this time aloud. "Whereare you, my sister?"
Where was she? Could he have only seen! We may be allowed to see, though_he_ could not. Come forward into the great Babylon with me, while he isspeeding on towards it; we will rejoin him in an instant.
In a small luxuriously furnished hall, there stands a beautiful woman,dressed modestly in the garb of a servant. She is standing with her armsfolded, and a cold, stern, curious look on her face. She is lookingtowards the hall-door, which is held open by a footman. She is waitingfor some one who is coming in; and two travellers enter, a man and awoman. She goes up to the woman, and says, quietly, "I bid you welcome,madam." Who are these people? Is that waiting-woman Ellen? and thesetravellers, are they Lord Welter and Adelaide? Let us get back to poorCharles; better be with him than here!
We must follow him closely. We must see why, in his despair, he took theextraordinary resolution that he did. Not that I shall take anyparticular pains to follow the exact process of his mind in arriving athis determination. If the story has hitherto been told well it willappear nothing extraordinary, and, if otherwise, an intelligent readerwould very soon detect any attempt at bolstering up ill-told facts byelaborate, soul-analysing theories.
He could have wished the train would have run on for ever; but he wasaroused by the lights growing thicker and more brilliant, and he feltthat they were nearing London, and that the time for action was come.
The great plunge was taken, and he was alone in the cold street--alone,save for the man who carried his baggage. He stood for a moment or so,confused with the rush of carriages of all sorts which were taking thepeople from the train, till he was aroused by the man asking him wherehe was to go to.
Charles said, without thinking, "The Warwick Hotel," and thither theywent. For a moment he regretted that he had said so, but the next momenthe said aloud, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die!"
The man turned round and begged his pardon. Charles did not answer him;and the man went on, wondering what sort of a young gentleman he had gothold of.
The good landlord was glad to see him. Would he have dinner?--a bit offish and a lamb chop, for instance? Then it suddenly struck Charles thathe was hungry--ravenous. He laughed aloud at the idea; and the landlordlaughed too, and rubbed his hands. Should it be whiting or smelts now?he asked.
"Anything," said Charles, "so long as you feed me quick. And give mewine, will you, of some sort; I want to drink. Give me sherry, will you?And I say, let me taste some now, and then I can see if I like it. I amvery particular about my wine, you must know."
In a few minutes a waiter brought in a glass of wine, and waited to knowhow Charles liked it. He told the man he could go, and he would tellhim at dinner-time. When the man was gone, he looked at the wine with asmile. Then he took it up, and poured it into the coal-scuttle.
"Not yet," he said, "not yet! I'll try something else before I try todrink my troubles away." And then he plunged into the _Times_.
He had no sooner convinced himself that Lord Aberdeen was tampering withthe honour of the country by not declaring war, than he found himselfprofoundly considering what had caused that great statesman to elopewith Adelaide, and whether, in case of a Russian war, Lady Ascot wouldpossibly convict Father Mackworth of having caused it. Then Lady Ascotcame into the room with a large bottle of medicine and a testament,announcing that she was going to attend a sick gun-boat. And then, justas he began to see that he was getting sleepy, to sleep he went, fast asa top.
Half an hour's sleep restored him, and dinner made things lookdifferent. "After all," he said, as he sipped his wine, "here is onlythe world on the one side and I on the other. I am utterly reckless, andcan sink no further. I will get all the pleasure out of life that I can,honestly; for I am an honest man still, and mean to be. I love youMadame Adelaide, and you have used me worse than a hound, and made medesperate. If he marries you, I will come forward some day, and disgraceyou. If you had only waited till you knew everything, I could haveforgiven you. I'll get a place as a footman, and talk about you in theservant's hall. All London shall know you were engaged
to me."
"Poor dear, pretty Adelaide: as if I would ever hurt a hair of yourhead, my sweet love! Silly----"
The landlord came in. There was most excellent company in thesmoking-room. Would he condescend to join them?
Company and tobacco! Charles would certainly join them; so he had hiswine carried in.
There was a fat gentleman, with a snub nose, who was a Conservative.There was a tall gentleman, with a long nose, who was Liberal. There wasa short gentleman, with no particular kind of nose, who was Radical.There was a handsome gentleman, with big whiskers, who was commercial;and there was a gentleman with bandy legs, who was horsy.
I strongly object to using a slang adjective, if any other can be got tosupply its place; but by doing so sometimes one avoids a periphrasis,and does not spoil one's period. Thus, I know of no predicate for agentleman with a particular sort of hair, complexion, dress, whiskers,and legs, except the one I have used above, and so it must stand.
As Providence would have it, Charles sat down between the landlord andthe horsy man, away from the others. He smoked his cigar, and listenedto the conversation.
The Conservative gentleman coalesced with the Liberal gentleman on thesubject of Lord Aberdeen's having sold the country to the Russians; theRadical gentleman also come over to them on that subject; and for a timethe Opposition seemed to hold an overwhelming majority, and to be merelyallowing Aberdeen's Government to hold place longer, that they mightcommit themselves deeper. In fact, things seemed to be going all oneway, as is often the case in coalition ministries just before a grandcrash, when the Radical gentleman caused a violent split in the cabinet,by saying that the whole complication had been brought about by themachinations of the aristocracy--which assertion caused the Conservativegentleman to retort in unmeasured language; and then the Liberalgentleman, trying to trim, found himself distrusted and despised by bothparties. Charles listened to them, amused for the time to hear themquoting, quite unconsciously, whole sentences out of their respectiveleading papers, and then was distracted by the horsy man saying to him--
"Darn politics. What horse will win the Derby, sir?"
"Haphazard," said Charles, promptly. This, please to remember, was LordAscot's horse, which we have seen before.
The landlord immediately drew closer up.
The horsy man looked at Charles, and said, "H'm; and what has made mylord scratch him for the Two Thousand, sir?"
And so on. We have something to do with Haphazard's winning the Derby,as we shall see; and we have still more to do with the result ofCharles's conversation with the "horsy man." But we have certainlynothing to do with a wordy discussion about the various horses whichstood well for the great race (wicked, lovely darlings, how many soulsof heroes have they sent to Hades!), and so we will spare the reader.The conclusion of their conversation was the only important part of it.
Charles said to the horsy man on the stairs, "Now you know everything. Iam penniless, friendless, and nameless. Can you put me in the way ofearning my living honestly?"
And he said, "I can, and I will. This gentleman is a fast man, but he isrich. You'll have your own way. Maybe, you'll see some queer things, butwhat odds?"
"None to me," said Charles; "I can always leave him."
"And go back to your friends, like a wise young gentleman, eh?" said theother, kindly.
"I am not a gentleman," said Charles. "I told you so before. I am agamekeeper's son; I swear to you I am. I have been petted and pamperedtill I look like one, but I am not."
"You are a deuced good imitation," said the other. "Good night; come tome at nine, mind."
* * * * *
At this time, Lady Ascot had despatched her letter to Lord Saltire, andhad asked for Charles. The groom of the chambers said that Mr. Ravenshoehad left the house immediately after his interview with her ladyship,three hours before.
She started up--"Gone!--Whither?"
"To Twyford, my lady."
"Send after him, you idiot! Send the grooms after him on all my lord'shorses. Send a lad on Haphazard, and let him race the train to London.Send the police! He has stolen my purse, with ten thousand gold guineasin it!--I swear he has. Have him bound hand and foot, and bring himback, on your life. If you stay there I will kill you!"
The violent old animal nature, dammed up so long by creeds and formulas,had broken out at last. The decorous Lady Ascot was transformed in oneinstant into a terrible, grey-headed, magnificent old Alecto, hurlingher awful words abroad in a sharp, snarling voice, that made the hair ofhim that heard it to creep upon his head. The man fled, and shut LadyAscot in alone.
She walked across the room, and beat her withered old hands against thewall. "Oh, miserable, wicked old woman!" she cried aloud. "How surelyhave your sins found you out! After concealing a crime for so manyyears, to find the judgment fall on such an innocent and beloved head!Alicia, Alicia, I did this for your sake. Charles, Charles, come back tothe old woman before she dies, and tell her you forgive her."