CHAPTER LXII.
MR. JACKSON'S BIG TROUT.
Of course, he did not die; I need not tell you that. B---- and P. H----pulled him through, and shook their honest hands over his bed. PoorB---- is reported to have winked on this occasion; but such a proceedingwas so unlike him, that I believe the report must have come round to usthrough one of the American papers--probably the same one whichrepresented the Prince of Wales hitting the Duke of Newcastle in the eyewith a champagne cork.
However, they pulled him through; and, in the pleasant spring-time, hewas carried down to Casterton. Things had gone so hard with him, thatthe primroses were in blossom on the southern banks before he knew thatLord Saltire was dead, and before he could be made to understand that hewas a rich man.
From this much of the story we may safely deduce this moral, "That, if ayoung gentleman gets into difficulties, it is always as well for him toleave his address with his friends." But, as young gentlemen indifficulties generally take particularly good care to remind theirfriends of their whereabouts, it follows that this story has beenwritten to little or no purpose. Unless, indeed, the reader can find forhimself another moral or two; and I am fool enough to fancy that he maydo that, if he cares to take the trouble.
Casterton is built on arches, with all sorts of offices and kitchensunder what would naturally be the ground floor. The reason why Castertonwas built on arches (that is to say, as far as you and I are concerned)is this: that Charles, lying on the sofa in Lord Hainault's study, couldlook over the valley and see the river; which, if it had been built onthe ground, he could not have done. From this window he could see thegreat weirs spouting and foaming all day; and, when he was carried up tobed, by William and Lord Hainault, he could hear the roar of them risingand pinking, as the night-wind came and went, until they lulled him tosleep.
He lay here one day, when the doctors came down from London. And one ofthem put a handkerchief over his face, which smelt like chemicalexperiments, and somehow reminded him of Dr. Daubeny. And he fellasleep; and when he awoke, he was suffering pain in his left arm--notthe old dull grinding pain, but sharper; which gradually grew less ashe lay and watched the weirs at Casterton. They had removed thesplinters of bone from his arm.
He did not talk much in this happy quiet time. William and Lady Ascotwere with him all day. William, dear fellow, used to sit on a footstool,between his sofa and the window, and read the _Times_ to him. William'seducation was imperfect, and he read very badly. He would read Mr.Russell's correspondence till he saw Charles's eye grow bright, andheard his breath quicken, and then he would turn to the list ofbankrupts. If this was too sad he would go on to the share list, andpound away at that, till Charles went to sleep, which he generally didpretty quickly.
About this time--that is to say, well in the spring--Charles asked twoquestions:--The first was, whether or no he might have the window open;the next, whether Lord Hainault would lend him an opera-glass?
Both were answered in the affirmative. The window was opened, and LordHainault and William came in, bearing, not an opera-glass, but a greatbrass telescope, on a stand--a thing with an eight-inch object-glass,which had belonged to old Lord Hainault, who was a Cambridge man, andgiven to such vanities.
This was very delightful. He could turn it with a move of his hand on toany part of the weirs, and see almost every snail which crawled on theburdocks. The very first day he saw one of the men from the paper-millcome to the fourth weir, and pull up the paddles to ease the water. Theman looked stealthily around, and then raised a wheel from below theapron, full of spawning perch. And this was close time! Oho!
Then, a few days after, came a tall, grey-headed gentleman, spinning ableak for trout, who had with him a lad in top-boots, with alanding-net. And this gentleman sent his bait flying out here and thereacross the water, and rattled his line rapidly into the palm of his handin a ball, like a consummate master, as he was. (King among fishermen,prince among gentlemen, you will read these lines, and you will be sogood as to understand that I am talking of you.) And this gentleman spunall day and caught nothing.
But he came the next day to the same place, and spun again. The greatfull south-westerly wind was roaring up the valley, singing among thebudding trees, and carrying the dark, low, rainless clouds swiftlybefore it. At two, just as Lady Ascot and William had gone to lunch, andafter Charles had taken his soup and a glass of wine, he, lying there,and watching this gentleman diligently, saw his rod bend, and his linetighten. The lad in the top-boots and the landing-net leaped up fromwhere he lay; there was no doubt about it now. The old gentleman had gothold of a fish, and a big one.
The next twenty minutes were terrible. The old gentleman gave him thebut, and moved slowly down along the camp-shuting, and Charles followedhim with the telescope, although his hand was shaking with excitement.After a time, the old gentleman began to wind up his reel, and then thelad, top-boots, and the landing-net, and all, slipped over thecamp-shooting (will anybody tell me how to spell that word?_Camps-heading_ won't do, my dear sir, all things considered), andlifted the fish (he was nine pound) up among the burdocks at the oldgentleman's feet.
Charles had the whole group in the telescope--the old gentleman, thegreat trout, and the dripping lad, taking off his boots, and emptyingthe water out of them. But the old gentleman was looking to his right atsomebody who was coming, and immediately there came into the field ofthe telescope a tall man in a velvet coat, with knee-breeches andgaiters, and directly afterwards, from the other side, three childrenand a young lady. The gentleman in the knee-breeches bowed to the younglady, and then they all stood looking at the trout.
Charles could see them quite plainly. The gentleman in velveteen andsmall-clothes was Lord Ascot, and the young lady was Mary.
He did not look through the telescope any more; he lay back, and triedto think. Presently afterwards old Lady Ascot came in, and settledherself in the window, with her knitting.
"My dear," she said, "I wonder if I fidget you with my knitting-needles?Tell me if I do, for I have plenty of other work."
"Not at all, dear aunt; I like it. You did nineteen rows this morning,and you would have done twenty-two if you had not dropped a stitch. WhenI get stronger I shall take to it myself. There would be too muchexcitement and over-exertion in it for me to begin just now."
Lady Ascot laughed; she was glad to see him trying even such a feeblejoke. She said--
"My dear, Mr. Jackson has killed a trout in the weirs just now, ninepounds."
"I know," said Charles; "I did not know the weight, but I saw the fish.Aunt, where is Welter--I mean, Ascot?"
"Well, he is at Ranford. I suppose you know, my dear boy, that poorJames left him nearly all his fortune. Nearly five hundred thousandpounds' worth, with Cottingdean and Marksworth together. All the Ranfordmortgages are paid off, and he is going on very well, my dear. I thinkthey ought to give him his marquisate. James might have had it ten timesover, of course, but he used to say, that he had made himself the mostnotorious viscount in England, and that if he took an earldom, peoplewould forget who he was."
"I wish he would come to see me, aunt. I am very fond of Welter."
I can't help it; he said so. Remember how near death's door he had been.Think what he had been through. How he had been degraded, and kickedabout from pillar to post, like an old shoe; and also remember the statehe was in when he said it. I firmly believe that he had at this timeforgotten everything, and that he only remembered Lord Ascot as his oldboy love, and his jolly college companion. You must make the best of it,or the worst of it for him, as you are inclined. He said so. And in avery short time Lady Ascot found that she wanted some more wool, andhobbled away to get it.
After a time, Charles heard a man come into the room. He thought it wasWilliam; but it was not. This man came round the end of the sofa, andstood in the window before him. Lord Ascot.
He was dressed as we know, having looked through Charles's telescope, ina velveteen coat, with knee breeches and leathern gaite
rs. There was notmuch change in him since the old times; only his broad, hairless faceseemed redder, his lower jaw seemed coarser and more prominent, hisgreat eyebrows seemed more lowering, his vast chest seemed broader anddeeper, and altogether he looked rather more like a mighty, coarse,turbulent blackguard than ever.
"Well, old cock," he said, "so you are on your back, hey?"
"Welter," said Charles, "I am so glad to see you again. If you wouldhelp me up, I should like to look at you."
"Poor old boy," said Lord Ascot, putting his great arm round him, andraising him. "So! there you are, my pippin. What a good old fellow youare, by Gad! So you were one of the immortal six hundred, hey? I thoughtyou would turn up somewhere in Queer Street, with that infernal old hooknose of yours. I wish I had taken to that sort of thing, for I am fondof fighting. I think, now I am rich and respectable, I shall subsidise aprize-fighter to pitch into me once a fortnight. I wish I had beenrespectable enough for the army; but I should always have been introuble with the commander-in-chief for dicing and brawling, I suppose.Well, old man, I am devilish glad to see you again. I am in possessionof money which should have been yours. I did all I could for you,Charles; you will never know how much. I tried to repair the awful wrongI did you unconsciously. I did a thing in your favour I tremble to thinkof now, but which, God help me, I would do again. You don't know what Imean. If old Saltire had not died so quick, you would have known."
He was referring to his having told Lord Saltire that he had seenCharles. In doing that, remember, he had thought that he was throwinghalf a million to the winds. I only tell you that he was referring tothis, for fear you should not gather it from his own brutal way ofspeaking.
I wonder how the balance will stand against Lord Ascot at last? Who evercould have dreamt that his strong animal affection for his old friendcould have led him to make a sacrifice which many a more highlyorganised man would have evaded, glossing over his conscience by fiftymental subterfuges?
"However, my dear fellow," he continued, "it comes to this: I have gotthe money; I shall have no children; and I shall make no will; thereforeit all comes to you, if you outlive me. About the title I can't say. Thelawyers must decide about that. No one seems to know whether or not itdescends through the female branch. By-the-bye, you are not master ofRavenshoe yet, though there seems no doubt that grandma is right, andthat the marriage took place. However, whether the estate goes to you orto William, I offer the same advice to both of you: if you get my money,don't spend it in getting the title. You can get into the House ofCommons easy enough, if you seem to care about that sort of fun; andfellows I know tell me that you get much better amusement there for yourmoney than in the other place. I have never been to the House of Lordssince the night I took my seat. It struck me as being slow. The fellowssay that there is never any chaff, or personalities, or calling toorder, or that sort of thing there, which seem to me to be half the funof the fair. But, of course, you know more about this than I."
Charles, in a minute, when he had ineffectually tried to understand whatLord Ascot had been saying, collected his senses sufficiently to say:
"Welter, old boy, look here, for I am very stupid. Why did you say thatyou should have no children?"
"Of course I can't; have they told you nothing?"
"Is Adelaide dead, Welter?" asked Charles, plucking at the buttons ofhis coat nervously.
"They ought to have told you, Charles," said Lord Ascot, turning to thewindow. "Now tell me something. Have you any love left for her yet?"
"Not one spark," said Charles, still buttoning and unbuttoning his coat."If I ever am a man again, I shall ask Mary Corby to marry me. I oughtto have done so sooner, perhaps. But I love your wife, Welter, in a way;and I should grieve at her death, for I loved her once. By Gad! yes; youknow it. When did she die?"
"She is not dead, Charles."
"Now, don't keep me like this, old man; I can't stand it. She is no moreto me than my sister--not so much. Tell me what is the matter at once;it can't be worse than what I think."
"The truth is very horrible, Charles," said Lord Ascot, speaking slowly."She took a fancy that I should buy back her favourite old Irish mare,'Molly Asthore,' and I bought it for her; and we went out huntingtogether, and we were making a nick, and I was getting the gate open forher, when the devil rushed it; and down they came on it together. Andshe broke her back--Oh, God! oh, God!--and the doctor says she may livetill seventy, but that she will never move from where she lies--and justas I was getting to love her so dearly----"
Charles said nothing; for with such a great brutal blackguard as LordAscot sobbing passionately at the window, it was as well to say nothing;but he thought, "Here's work to the fore, I fancy, after a life oflaziness. I have been the object of all these dear soul's anxiety for along time. She must take my place now."