Young Blood

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE CHAMPION OF THE GODS.

  Harry had gathered that another week would decide the fate of theH.C.S. & T.S.A., Ltd., and he could not help feeling anxious as thatweek drew to its close. Not that he himself had gained much confidencein the mighty scheme in question, for he found it more and moreimpossible to believe very deeply in Gordon Lowndes or any of hisworks. Yet he knew now that Lowndes would help him if he could, by fairmeans or by foul, and he could say the same of no other man. Lowndeswas not merely his friend, but his only friend in London, and youcannot afford to be hypercritical of an only friend. He might beunscrupulous, he might be unreliable, but he stood by himself forstaunchness and the will to help. He might be a straw for sinkinghopes, but there was no spar in sight.

  So Harry searched the papers at the Public Library, not only for likelyadvertisements (which he would answer to the tune of several stamps aday), but also for the announcement of the return from Scotland of theEarl of Banff, K.G. When that announcement appeared, and two or threedays slipped by without a line from Lowndes, though the week was morethan up, then, and not until then, did Harry Ringrose abandon his lasthope of getting anything to do in London. His one friend there hadfailed him, and was very likely himself in prison for debt. He had, itis true, an infinitely better friend at Guildford, whom he was on theeve of visiting, and who might help him to some junior mastership, butthis was the most that he could hope for now. Such a post would in allprobability separate him from his mother, but even that would be betterthan living upon her as he was now doing. And in London he seemed tostand no chance at all.

  To this melancholy conclusion had Harry come on the day before he wasto go to Guildford, when the electric bell began ringing as though itwas never going to stop, and there stood Lowndes himself at ten o'clockin the morning. Harry instantly demanded to be told the worst or thebest. The other held up his finger and shook his head. His face seemedwilfully inscrutable, but it was also full of humour and encouragement.

  "The fact is, Ringrose," said Lowndes, "I have heard so much of thatblessed Company every day for so many months, that I mean to givemyself one day without thinking or speaking about it at all. Come to meto-morrow and you shall know everything. Meanwhile you and your mothermust dine with me this evening to celebrate the occasion. Let us saythe Grand Hotel and seven o'clock. Then we can all go to some theatreafterwards."

  Harry ran to tell his mother he felt certain the Company was coming outat last, and to repeat this invitation word for word; but he had greatdifficulty in getting her to accept it. How could she go out again? Shemight be seen; it would look so bad; and she did not want to enjoyherself. Then, said Harry, neither did he; and so gained his point byrather doubtful means. Lowndes, who was on his way to the City, andwould not come in, whispered to Harry that a little outing would do hismother all the good in the world; then his eyes fell, and he stoodquizzically contemplating the shiny suit which he still seemed toprefer to all the new ones he had ordered from Harry's tailors.

  "I think, Ringrose," said he, "that you and I had better dress. I keepsome war-paint in the City, so it will be no trouble to either of us.Tell your mother not to bother, however, as my daughter will not be inevening dress. I forgot to mention, by the way, that she is coming into pay her belated respects to Mrs. Ringrose this afternoon, and I wantyou to be so good as to bring her along with you to the Grand Hotel.Seven o'clock, recollect, and you and I will dress."

  With that he ran down the stone stairs, and the swing doors closedbehind him with a thud while Harry Ringrose still loitered on thelanding outside the flat. Delighted as he was at the unwonted prospectof a little gaiety, and more than thankful for all that it implied,those emotions were nothing to the sudden satisfaction with which hefound himself looking forward to seeing Miss Lowndes again and at theflat. It is true that the keener pleasure was also the less perfect. Itwas mingled with a personal anxiety which it was annoying to feel, butwhich Harry could not shake off. He was unreasonably anxious that hismother should like Miss Lowndes, and that Miss Lowndes should like hismother. And yet he told himself it was a natural feeling enough; herecalled its counterpart in old days when he had taken someschoolfellow home for the holidays.

  As for Mrs. Ringrose, she was not only pleased to hear the girl wascoming, but regarded that unprecedented fact as a happier augury thanany other circumstance.

  "I really think you must be right," said she, "and that the ship he hasalways talked about is coming in at last. I am sure I hope it is true,for I know of nobody who would make a better millionaire than Mr.Lowndes. He is generous with his money when it seems that he has lessthan I should have believed possible, so what will he be when he isreally rich! But he never would tell me what his great scheme was; andI am not sure that I altogether care for it from your description, myboy. I like Mr. Lowndes immensely, but I am not sure that I want to seeyou concerned in a pure speculation. However, let us hope for the best,and let neither of them suppose that we do not believe the best. Yes,of course, I shall be glad to see the daughter. Go down, my boy, andtell the porter's wife to come up and speak to me."

  When in the fulness of time Miss Lowndes arrived, the door was openedby neither Harry nor Mrs. Ringrose, and the flat was brightened by afew fresh flowers which the former had brought in without exciting hismother's suspicions. Mrs. Ringrose, indeed, had an inveterate love ofentertaining, which all her troubles had not killed in her, and shereceived the visitor in a way that made Harry draw a very long breath.Palpably and indeed inexplicably nervous as she came in, so genial wasthe welcome that the girl recovered herself in a moment, and in anotherHarry's anxieties were at an end. Once she had mastered her momentaryembarrassment, it was obvious that Miss Lowndes was in infinitelybetter spirits than when he had seen her last at Richmond. She lookedyounger; there was a warmer tinge upon her cheek, her eyes werebrighter, her dress less demure. Harry had only to look at her to feelassured that fortune was smiling after all upon the H.C.S. & T.S.A.;and he had only to hear the two women talking to know that they wouldbe friends.

  Miss Lowndes explained why she had never been to call before. She saidfrankly that they had been terribly poor, and she herself greatly tiedin consequence. She spoke of the poverty in the perfect tense, with thefreedom and nonchalance with which one can afford to treat what ispassed and over. Nothing could have been more reassuring than her tone,nothing pleasanter than the way in which she and Mrs. Ringrose took toone another. Harry was so pleased that he was quite contented to sit byand listen, and to wait upon Miss Lowndes when the tea came in, andonly put in his word here and there. It was his mother who would speakabout the accepted verses, and when Harry fled to dress he left herransacking the escritoire for his notorious outrage on Gray's Elegy.Nor was this the final mark of favour. When they started for CharingCross, it was Mrs. Ringrose who insisted that they should take anomnibus, and Mrs. Ringrose who presently suggested that the youngpeople would be cooler outside. It was as though Fanny Lowndes had madea deeper impression on Harry's mother than on Harry himself.

  Now, there is no more delightful drive than that from Kensington to theStrand, at the golden end of a summer's afternoon and on the top of aHammersmith omnibus. If you are so fortunate as to get a front seatwhere nobody can smoke in your face and the view is unimpeded, it isjust possible that your coppers may buy you as much of colour andbeauty and life and interest as Harry Ringrose obtained for his; butcertainly Harry was very young and much addicted to enthusiasm oversmall things; and perhaps nobody else is likely to breast the firstgreen corner of the Gardens with the thrill it gave him, or to covet acertain small house in Kensington Gore as he coveted it, or to see withhis eyes through the railings and the thick leaves of the Park, or toread as much romance upon the crowded flagstones of Piccadilly. Alreadyhe knew and loved every furlong of the route; but Fanny Lowndes was thefirst companion who had been with him over the ground; and afterwards,when he came to know every yard, every yard was associated with her.The beginning of the Garde
ns henceforth reminded Harry of his firstdirect question about the Company, and her assurances ever afterwardsaccompanied him to the Memorial. That maligned monument he never passedagain without thinking of the argument it had led to, without deploringhis companion's views as to gilt and gay colours, without rememberingsadly that it was the one subject on which they disagreed that happysummer evening. He found her more sympathetic even than he had beenimagining her since their first meeting. They touched a score of topicson which their spirits jumped as one: in after days he would recallthem in their order when he came that way alone, and see summersunshine through the dripping fogs, and green leaves on the blackbranches in the Park.

  Their last words he remembered oftenest, because even the Undergroundleads to Trafalgar Square, and it was there that they were spoken. Theshadows of the column lay sharp and black across the Square; that ofthe Admiral was being run over by innumerable wheels in the roadbeyond, and the low sun flashed in every window of the Grand Hotel.

  "Our future offices!" laughed Harry, pointing to the pile.

  "I don't think I want them to be yours," said Fanny Lowndes.

  "Why not?"

  "I want you to go on with your writing."

  "But you see how little good I am. One thing accepted out of sevenwritten! I should never make bread and butter at it."

  "You have not done what I told you to do at Richmond. You should tryprose, and draw on your own experiences."

  "Would you be my critic?"

  "If I had the qualifications."

  "Well, will you read me and say what you think?"

  "With all my heart."

  "Then I'll set to work as soon as ever I get back from Guildford. Youwould put pluck into a mouse, Miss Lowndes, and I'll try to deserve theinterest you take in me."

  The omnibus stopped, and their eyes met with a mutual regret as theyrose. Harry could not have believed that a change of fortune would sochange a face; that of Miss Lowndes was always lighted by intelligenceand kindness, but with the light of happiness added it was almostbeautiful. And yet, the fine eyes fell before Harry's, and fell againas he handed her to the curb with a cordial clasp, so that the boy wasthoughtful as they crossed to the hotel, thinking of her nervousness atthe flat.

  A few hours later he could understand the daughter of Gordon Lowndesfeeling nervous in accompanying comparative strangers to public placesunder the wing of that extraordinary man.

  It was evident from the first that Lowndes was in a highly excitablestate. Harry overheard him telling his daughter she was five minuteslate in a tone which made his young blood boil. But it was the hotelofficials who had the chief benefit of the company-promoter's mood.Something was wrong with the soup--Harry was talking to Miss Lowndesand never knew what. All he heard was Lowndes sending for the headwaiter, and the harangue that followed. The head waiter ventured toanswer; he was instantly told to fetch the general manager. A painfulscene seemed inevitable, but the worst was over. In making twoofficials miserable, and in greatly embarrassing his daughter and hisguests, it suddenly appeared that Lowndes had quite recovered his ownspirits, and the manager found a boisterous humourist instead of theswashbuckler for whom he had come prepared. The complaint was waivedwith dexterous good-nature; but care seemed to be taken that noloophole should be given for a second. The remainder of the repast wasunexceptionable (as, indeed, the soup had seemed to Harry), andLowndes, who drank a good deal of champagne, continued uproariouslymirthful almost to the end. He told them the name of the piece forwhich he had taken stalls. It had only been produced the previousevening, so none of them could say that they had seen it before.

  "I don't know what it's like," added Lowndes. "I never read criticisms.Have you seen anything about it, Ringrose?"

  "Why, yes," said Harry; "I looked in at the library this morning, and Isaw two or three notices. They say it is a good enough play; but therewas a bit of a row last night. The papers are full of it. In factthat's how I came to read the criticisms."

  "A row in the theatre?" said Lowndes. "What about?"

  "Fees," said Harry. "You know there are no fees at the Lyceum and theSavoy, and three or four more of the best theatres, so they want toabolish them there also."

  "Who do?"

  "The public."

  "But it's a question for the management entirely. The public havenothing to do with it."

  "I don't know about that," argued Harry. "The public pay, and theythink they shouldn't."

  "Why?" snapped Lowndes; and it became disagreeably apparent that hislust for combat had revived.

  "Well, they think they pay quite enough for their places without anyextras afterwards, such as a fee for programmes. They say you might aswell be charged for the bill-of-fare when you dine at a restaurant. Buttheir great point seems to be that if half-a-dozen good theatres can dowithout fees all good theatres can. They call them an imposition."

  "Rubbish," snorted Lowndes, in so offensive a manner that Harry couldsay no more; he was therefore surprised when, after a little generalconversation in which Lowndes had not joined, the latter leant acrossto him with all the twinkling symptoms of his liveliest moments.

  "I presume," said he, "that all the row last night was kicked up by thepit and gallery?"

  "So I gathered."

  "Ah! What they want is a remonstrance from the stalls. There would besome sense in that."

  There were no more disagreeables at the hotel, and none with either ofthe cabmen outside the theatre. All at once Lowndes seemed to havegrown unnaturally calm and sedate, Harry could not imagine why. Butonly too soon he knew.

  They had four stalls in the centre of the third row. Harry sat on theextreme left of the party, with Fanny Lowndes on his right, to whom hewas talking as he tucked his twelve-shilling "topper" as carefully aspossible under the seat, when his companion suddenly looked round andup with a startled expression. Harry followed her example, and therewas Gordon Lowndes standing up in his place and laughing in thereddening face of the pretty white-capped attendant. In his hand werefour programmes.

  "Certainly not," he was saying. "The system of fees, in a theatre likethis, is an outrage on the audience, and I don't intend to submit toit."

  "I can't help the system, sir."

  "I know you can't, my good girl. I don't blame you. Go about yourbusiness."

  "But I must fetch the manager."

  "Oh, fetch the police if you like. Not a penny-piece do I pay."

  And Gordon Lowndes stood erect in his place, fanning himself with theunpaid-for programmes, and beaming upon all the house. Already all eyeswere upon him; it was amusing to note with what different glances. Thestalls took care to look suitably contumelious, and the dress-circlewere in proper sympathy with the stalls. But the front row of the pitwere leaning across the barrier, and the gallery was a fringe ofhorizontal faces and hats.

  "We're behind you," said a deep voice in the pit.

  "Good old four-eyes!" piped another from aloft.

  The gods had recognised their champion: he gave them a magnificent waveof the programmes, and stood there with swelling shirt-front, everyinch the demagogue.

  "Now, sir, now!"

  The manager was a smart-looking man with a pointed beard, and acrush-hat on the back of his head. He spoke even more sharply than wasnecessary.

  "Now, sir, to you," replied Lowndes suavely, and with an admirableinclination of his head.

  "Well, what's the matter? Why won't you pay?"

  "I never encourage fees," replied Lowndes, shaking his twinkling facein the most fatherly fashion. He articulated his words with the utmostdeliberation, however, and there was a yell of approval from the godsabove. A ripple of amusement was also going round the house; for Mrs.Ringrose was holding up half-a-crown and making treacherous signs tothe manager, which, however, he would not see. It seemed he was afighting man himself, and his eyes were locked in a tussle withLowndes's spectacles.

  "You must leave the theatre, that's all."

  "Nonsense," retorted Lowndes, with
his indulgent smile.

  "We shall see about that. May I trouble you, ladies and gentlemen, toleave your places for one moment?"

  Lowndes's incomparable guffaw resounded through the auditorium. It wasreceiving a hearty echo in pit and gallery, when he held up hisprogrammes, and the gods were still. The ladies and gentlemen had kepttheir seats.

  "My dear sir, why give yourself away?" said Gordon Lowndes, stillchuckling, to the manager. "You daren't touch me, and you know youdaren't. A pretty figure you'd cut at Bow Street to-morrow morning! Nowkindly listen to me--" and he tapped the programmes authoritativelywith his forefinger. "You know as well as I do that there was troublelast night in this theatre about this very thing; my dear sir, I canpromise you there'll be trouble every night until you discontinue yourpresent obsolete and short-sighted policy. How I wish you were asensible man! Then you would think twice before attempting to force abarefaced imposition of this sort down the throats of your audience; animposition that every theatre of repute has recognised as such andthrown overboard long and long ago. You don't force it down _my_throat, I can tell you that. You don't bluff or bully _me_. As if wedidn't pay enough for our seats without any such exorbitant extras!Why, they might as well charge us for the bill-of-fare at a first-classrestaurant. Besides, what a charge! Sixpence for these--sixpence forthis!" And he spun one of his programmes into the pit, and wavedanother towards the gallery.

  But that cool quick tongue was no sooner silent than the house was in ahubbub. Here and there arose a thin, peevish cry of "Turn him out," buton the whole the sympathy of the house was with Lowndes. The stallswere no longer visibly ashamed of him; the dress-circle jumped with thestalls; but the pit clapped its ungloved hands and stamped with itsout-of-door boots, while every species of whistle, cheer and cat-callcame hurtling from the gallery. This went on for some three minutes,which is a long time thus filled. There was no stopping it. The managerretreated unheard and impotent. A minute later the curtain went up,only to give the tumult a new impetus. The hapless actors looked at oneanother and at the front of the house. The curtain came down, and thepopular and talented lessee himself stepped in front of it, dressed inhis stage costume. But even him they would not hear. Then arose theunknown, middle-aged gentleman in the stalls, with the splendid temperand the gold eye-glasses--and him they would.

  "Come, come, ladies and gentlemen," cried he, "haven't we done enoughfor one night? We have all paid our money, are we not to see the piece?As for that other matter, I think it may safely be left in the hands ofyonder wise man who stands before us."

  And it was--with a result you may remember. Meantime the curtain was upfor good and the play proceeding after a very short interval indeed,during which Gordon Lowndes bore himself with startling modesty,sitting quietly in his place and doing nothing but apologise to Mrs.Ringrose for having caused such a scene on an occasion when she was hisguest. He should have thought only of his guests; but his sense ofpublic duty, combined with his bitter and inveterate intolerance ofanything in the shape of an imposition, had run away with him, and onMrs. Ringrose's account he was humbly sorry for it. That lady forgavehim, however. Through a perfect agony of shame and indignation she hadcome to a new and not unnatural pride in her eccentric friend.

  As for Harry, there was no measure to his enthusiasm: the tears hadbeen in his eyes from sheer excitement.

  "A wonderful man, your father!" he whispered again and again to thepale girl on his right.

  "He is," she answered, with a smile and a sigh. And the smile was thesadder of the two.

  Between the acts Harry visited the foyer with Lowndes, who wascomplimented by several strangers on his spirited and public-spiritedbehaviour.

  "But do you know," said Harry, when they were alone, "from the way youspoke at dinner I fancied you took quite an opposite view of the wholequestion of fees?"

  "So I did," whispered Lowndes, with his tremulous grin, "but I saw myway to some sport, and that was enough for me. I was spoiling for somesport to-night, and a bit of bluff from the stalls was obviously whatwas wanted. You must excuse my using your arguments, but the fact is Ivery seldom set foot inside a theatre, and they were the only ones I'dever heard."

  "At dinner you said they were nonsense!"

  The other winked as he lowered his voice.

  "So they were, my dear Ringrose. That was exactly where the sport camein."