CHAPTER VIII.
_The Duke Makes a Speech_
THE return of morning had in some degree dissipated the gloom that hadsettled on the young Duke during the night. Sound and light made himfeel less forlorn, and for a moment his soul again responded to his highpurpose. But now he was to seek necessary repose. In vain. His heatedframe and anxious mind were alike restless. He turned, he tossed in hisbed, but he could not banish from his ear the whirling sound of his lateconveyance, the snore of Mr. Macmorrogh, and the voice of Tom Rawlins.He kept dwelling on every petty incident of his journey, and repeatingin his mind every petty saying. His determination to slumber made himeven less sleepy. Conscious that repose was absolutely necessary tothe performance of his task, and dreading that the boon was nowunattainable, he became each moment more feverish and more nervous; acrowd of half-formed ideas and images flitted over his heated brain.Failure, misery, May Dacre, Tom Rawlins, boiled beef, Mrs. Burnet, thearistocracy, mountains and the marine, and the tower of St. Alban'scathedral, hurried along in infinite confusion. But there is nothinglike experience. In a state of distraction, he remembered the hopelessbut refreshing sleep he had gained after his fatal adventure atBrighton. He jumped out of bed, and threw himself on the floor, and ina few minutes, from the same cause, his excited senses subsided intoslumber.
He awoke; the sun was shining through his rough shutter. It was noon. Hejumped up, rang the bell, and asked for a bath. The chambermaid did notseem exactly to comprehend his meaning, but said she would speak to thewaiter. He was the first gentleman who ever had asked for a bath at theDragon with Two Tails. The waiter informed him that he might get a bath,he believed, at the Hum-mums. The Duke dressed, and to the Hummums hethen took his way. As he was leaving the yard, he was followed by anostler, who, in a voice musically hoarse, thus addressed him:
'Have you seen missis, sir?'
'Do you mean me? No, I have not seen your missis;' and the Dukeproceeded.
'Sir, sir,' said the ostler, running after him, 'I think you said youhad not seen missis?'
'You think right,' said the Duke, astonished; and again he walked on.
'Sir, sir,' said the pursuing ostler, 'I don't think you have got anyluggage?'
'Oh! I beg your pardon,' said the Duke; 'I see it. I am in your debt;but I meant to return.'
'No doubt on't, sir; but when gemmen don't have no luggage, they seesmissis before they go, sir.'
'Well, what am I in your debt? I can pay you here.'
'Five shillings, sir.'
'Here!' said the Duke; 'and tell me when a coach leaves this placeto-morrow for Yorkshire.'
'Half-past six o'clock in the morning precisely,' said the ostler.
'Well, my good fellow, I depend upon your securing me a place; and thatis for yourself,' added his Grace, throwing him a sovereign. 'Now, mind;I depend upon you.'
The man stared as if he had been suddenly taken into partnership withmissis; at length he found his tongue.
'Your honour may depend upon me. Where would you like to sit? In or out?Back to your horses, or the front? Get you the box if you like. Where'syour great coat, sir? I'll brush it for you.'
The bath and the breakfast brought our hero round a good deal, andat half-past two he stole to a solitary part of St. James's Park, tostretch his legs and collect his senses. We must now let our readersinto a secret, which perhaps they have already unravelled. The Dukehad hurried to London with the determination, not only of attending thedebate, but of participating in it. His Grace was no politician; but thequestion at issue was one simple in its nature and so domestic in itsspirit, that few men could have arrived at his period of life withouthaving heard its merits, both too often and too amply discussed. He wasmaster of all the points of interest, and he had sufficient confidencein himself to believe that he could do them justice. He walked up anddown, conning over in his mind not only the remarks which he intendedto make, but the very language in which he meant to offer them. As heformed sentences, almost for the first time, his courage and his fancyalike warmed: his sanguine spirit sympathised with the nobility of theimaginary scene, and inspirited the intonations of his modulated voice.
About four o'clock he repaired to the House. Walking up one of thepassages his progress was stopped by the back of an individual bowingwith great civility to a patronising peer, and my-lording him withpainful repetition. The nobleman was Lord Fitz-pompey; the bowinggentleman, Mr. Duncan Macmorrogh, the anti-aristocrat, and father of thefirst man of the day.
'George! is it possible!' exclaimed Lord Fitz-pompey. 'I will speak toyou in the House,' said the Duke, passing on, and bowing to Mr. DuncanMacmorrogh.
He recalled his proxy from the Duke of Burlington, and accounted forhis presence to many astonished friends by being on his way to theContinent; and, passing through London, thought he might as wellbe present, particularly as he was about to reside for some time inCatholic countries. It was the last compliment that he could pay hisfuture host. 'Give me a pinch of snuff.'
The debate began. Don't be alarmed. I shall not describe it. Five or sixpeers had spoken, and one of the ministers had just sat down when theDuke of St. James rose. He was extremely nervous, but he repeated tohimself the name of May Dacre for the hundredth time, and proceeded. Hewas nearly commencing 'May Dacre' instead of 'My Lords,' but he escapedthis blunder. For the first five or ten minutes he spoke in almost ascold and lifeless a style as when he echoed the King's speech; but hewas young and seldom troubled them, and was listened to therefore withindulgence. The Duke warmed, and a courteous 'hear, hear,' frequentlysounded; the Duke became totally free from embarrassment, and spokewith eloquence and energy. A cheer, a stranger in the House of Lords,rewarded and encouraged him. As an Irish landlord, his sincerity couldnot be disbelieved when he expressed his conviction of the safety ofemancipation; but it was as an English proprietor and British noblethat it was evident that his Grace felt most keenly upon this importantmeasure. He described with power the peculiar injustice of the situationof the English Catholics. He professed to feel keenly upon this subject,because his native county had made him well acquainted with the temperof this class; he painted in glowing terms the loyalty, the wealth, theinfluence, the noble virtues of his Catholic neighbours; and he closed aspeech of an hour's duration, in which he had shown that a worn subjectwas susceptible of novel treatment, and novel interest, amid loudand general cheers. The Lords gathered round him, and many personallycongratulated him upon his distinguished success. The debate tookits course. At three o'clock the pro-Catholics found themselves ina minority, but a minority in which the prescient might have welldiscovered the herald of future justice. The speech of the Duke of St.James was the speech of the night.
The Duke walked into White's. It was crowded. The first man who welcomedhim was Annesley. He congratulated the Duke with a warmth for which theworld did not give him credit.
'I assure you, my dear St. James, that I am one of the few people whomthis display has not surprised. I have long observed that you wereformed for something better than mere frivolity. And between ourselvesI am sick of it. Don't be surprised if you hear that I go to Algiers.Depend upon it that I am on the point of doing something dreadful.''Sup with me, St. James,' said Lord Squib; 'I will ask O'Connell to meetyou.'
Lord Fitz-pompey and Lord Darrell were profuse in congratulations; buthe broke away from them to welcome the man who now advanced. He was oneof whom he never thought without a shudder, but whom, for all that, hegreatly liked.
'My dear Duke of St. James,' said Arundel Dacre, 'how ashamed I amthat this is the first time I have personally thanked you for all yourgoodness!'
'My dear Dacre, I have to thank you for proving for the first time tothe world that I was not without discrimination.'
'No, no,' said Dacre, gaily and easily; 'all the congratulations and allthe compliments to-night shall be for you. Believe me, my dear friend, Ishare your triumph.'
They shook hands with earnestness.
'May will rea
d your speech with exultation,' said Arundel. 'I think wemust thank her for making you an orator.'
The Duke faintly smiled and shook his head.
'And how are all our Yorkshire friends?' continued Arundel. 'I amdisappointed again in getting down to them; but I hope in the course ofthe month to pay them a visit.'
'I shall see them in a day or two,' said the Duke. 'I pay Mr. Dacre onemore visit before my departure form England.'
'Are you then indeed going?' asked Arundel, in a kind voice.
'For ever.'
'Nay, nay, _ever_ is a strong word.'
'It becomes, then, my feelings. However, we will not talk of this. Can Ibear any letter for you?'
'I have just written,' replied Arundel, in a gloomy voice, and with achanging countenance, 'and therefore will not trouble you. And yet----'
'What!'
'And yet the letter is an important letter: to me. The post, to be sure,never does miss; but if it were not troubling your Grace too much, Ialmost would ask you to be its bearer.'
'It will be there as soon,' said the Duke, 'for I shall be off in anhour.'
'I will take it out of the box then,' said Arundel; and he fetched it.'Here is the letter,' said he on his return: 'pardon me if I impressupon you its importance. Excuse this emotion, but, indeed, this letterdecides my fate. My happiness for life is dependent on its reception!'
He spoke with an air and voice of agitation.
The Duke received the letter in a manner scarcely less disturbed; andwith a hope that they might meet before his departure, faintly murmuredby one party, and scarcely responded to by the other, they parted.
'Well, now,' said the Duke, 'the farce is complete; and I have come toLondon to be the bearer of his offered heart! I like this, now. Is therea more contemptible, a more ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous assthan myself? Fear not for its delivery, most religiously shall it beconsigned to the hand of its owner. The fellow has paid a compliment tomy honour or my simplicity: I fear the last, and really I feel ratherproud. But away with these feelings! Have I not seen her in his arms?Pah! Thank God! I spoke. At least, I die in a blaze. Even Annesley doesnot think me quite a fool. O, May Dacre, May Dacre! if you were butmine, I should be the happiest fellow that ever breathed!'
He breakfasted, and then took his way to the Dragon with Two Tails. Themorning was bright, and fresh, and beautiful, even in London. Joy cameupon his heart, in spite of all his loneliness, and he was glad andsanguine. He arrived just in time. The coach was about to start. Thefaithful ostler was there with his great-coat, and the Duke found thathe had three fellow-passengers. They were lawyers, and talked for thefirst two hours of nothing but the case respecting which they weregoing down into the country. At Woburn, a despatch arrived with thenewspapers. All purchased one, and the Duke among the rest. He waswell reported, and could now sympathise with, instead of smile at, theanxiety of Lord Darrell.
'The young Duke of St. James seems to have distinguished himself verymuch,' said the first lawyer.
'So I observe,' said the second one. 'The leading article calls ourattention to his speech as the most brilliant delivered.'
'I am surprised,' said the third. 'I thought he was quite a differentsort of person.'
'By no means,' said the first: 'I have always had a high opinion of him.I am not one of those who think the worse of a young man because he is alittle wild.'
'Nor I,' said the second. 'Young blood, you know, is young blood.'
'A very intimate friend of mine, who knows the Duke of St. James well,once told me,' rejoined the first, 'that I was quite mistaken about him;that he was a person of no common talents; well read, quite a man of theworld, and a good deal of wit, too; and let me tell you that in thesedays wit is no common thing.'
'Certainly not,' said the third. 'We have no wit now.'
'And a kind-hearted, generous fellow,' continued the first, 'and _very_unaffected.'
'I can't bear an affected man,' said the second, without looking off hispaper. 'He seems to have made a very fine speech indeed.'
'I should not wonder at his turning out something great,' said thethird.
'I have no doubt of it,' said the second.
'Many of these wild fellows do.'
'He is not so wild as we think,' said the first.
'But he is done up,' said the second.
'Is he indeed?' said the third. 'Perhaps by making a speech he wants aplace?'
'People don't make speeches for nothing,' said the third.
'I shouldn't wonder if he is after a place in the Household,' said thesecond.
'Depend upon it, he looks to something more active,' said the first.
'Perhaps he would like to be head of the Admiralty?' said the second.
'Or the Treasury?' said the third.
'That is impossible!' said the first. 'He is too young.'
'He is as old as Pitt,' said the third.
'I hope he will resemble him in nothing but his age, then,' said thefirst.
'I look upon Pitt as the first man that ever lived,' said the third.
'What!' said the first. 'The man who worked up the national debt tonearly eight hundred millions!'
'What of that?' said the third. 'I look upon the national debt as thesource of all our prosperity.'
'The source of all our taxes, you mean.'
'What is the harm of taxes?'
'The harm is, that you will soon have no trade; and when you have notrade, you will have no duties; and when you have no duties, you willhave no dividends; and when you have no dividends, you will have no law;and then, where is your source of prosperity?' said the first.
But here the coach stopped, and the Duke got out for an hour.
By midnight they had reached a town not more than thirty miles fromDacre. The Duke was quite exhausted, and determined to stop. In half anhour he enjoyed that deep, dreamless slumber, with which no luxury cancompete. One must have passed restless nights for years, to be able toappreciate the value of sound sleep.