Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour

  CHAPTER XXX

  BOLTING THE BADGER

  When a man and his horse differ seriously in public, and the man feels thehorse has the best of it, it is wise for the man to appear to accommodatehis views to those of the horse, rather than risk a defeat. It is best tolet the horse go his way, and pretend it is yours. There is no secret soclose as that between a rider and his horse.

  Mr. Sponge, having scattered Lord Scamperdale in the summary way describedin our last chapter, let the chestnut gallop away, consoling himself withthe idea that even if the hounds did hunt, it would be impossible for himto show his horse to advantage on so dark and unfavourable a day. He,therefore, just let the beast gallop till he began to flag, and then hespurred him and made him gallop on his account. He thus took his change outof him, and arrived at Jawleyford Court a little after luncheon time.

  Brief as had been his absence, things had undergone a great change. Certaindark hints respecting his ways and means had worked their way from theservants' hall to my lady's chamber, and into the upper regions generally.These had been augmented by Leather's, the trusty groom's, overnight visit,in fulfilment of his engagement to sup with the servants. Nor was Mr.Leather's anger abated by the unceremonious way Mr. Sponge rode off withthe horse, leaving him to hear of his departure from the ostler. Havingbroken faith with him, he considered it his duty to be 'upsides' with him,and tell the servants all he knew about him. Accordingly he let out, instrict confidence of course, to Spigot, that so far from Mr. Sponge being agentleman of 'fortin,' as he called it, with a dozen or two hunters plantedhere and there, he was nothing but the hirer of a couple of hacks, withhimself as a job-groom, by the week. Spigot, who was on the best of termswith the 'cook-housekeeper,' and had his clothes washed on the sly in thelaundry, could not do less than communicate the intelligence to her, fromwhom it went to the lady's-maid, and thence circulated in the upperregions.

  Juliana, the maid, finding Miss Amelia less indisposed to hear Mr. Spongerun down than she expected, proceeded to add her own observations to theinformation derived from Leather, the groom. 'Indeed, she couldn't say thatshe thought much of Mr. Sponge herself; his shirts were coarse, so were hispocket-handkerchiefs; and she never yet saw a real gent without a valet.'

  Amelia, without any positive intention of giving up Mr. Sponge, at leastnot until she saw further, had nevertheless got an idea that she wasdestined for a much higher sphere. Having duly considered all thecircumstances of Mr. Spraggon's visit to Jawleyford Court, conned overseveral mysterious coughs and half-finished sentences he had indulged in,she had about come to the conclusion that the real object of his missionwas to negotiate a matrimonial alliance on behalf of Lord Scamperdale. Hislordship's constantly expressed intention of getting married was wellcalculated to mislead one whose experience of the world was notsufficiently great to know that those men who are always talking about itare the least likely to get married, just as men who are always talkingabout buying horses are the men who never do buy them. Be that, however, asit may, Amelia was tolerably easy about Mr. Sponge. If he had money shecould take him; if he hadn't, she could let him alone.

  Jawleyford, too, who was more hospitable at a distance, and in imaginationthan in reality, had had about enough of our friend. Indeed, a man whosetalk was of hunting, and his reading _Mogg_ was not likely to have much incommon with a gentleman of taste and elegance, as our friend set up to be.The delicate inquiry that Mrs. Jawleyford now made, as to 'whether he knewMr. Sponge to be a man of fortune,' set him off at a tangent.

  'ME know he's a man of fortune! _I_ know nothing of his fortune.You asked him here, not ME,' exclaimed Jawleyford, stampingfuriously.

  'No, my dear,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford mildly; 'he asked himself, you know;but I thought, perhaps, you might have said something that--'

  'ME say anything!' interrupted Jawleyford. '_I_ never saidanything--at least, nothing that any man with a particle of sense wouldthink anything of,' continued he, remembering the scene in thebilliard-room. 'It's one thing to tell a man, if he comes your way, you'llbe glad to see him, and another to ask him to come bag and baggage, as thisimpudent Mr. Sponge has done,' added he.

  'Certainly,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford, who saw where the shoe was pinchingher bear.

  'I wish he was off,' observed Jawleyford, after a pause. 'He bothers meexcessively--I'll try and get rid of him by saying we are going from home.'

  'Where can you say we are going to?' asked Mrs. Jawleyford.

  'Oh, anywhere,' replied Jawleyford; 'he doesn't know the people about here:the Tewkesbury's, the Woolerton's, the Brown's--anybody.'

  Before they had got any definite plan of proceeding arranged, Mr. Spongereturned from the chase. 'Ah, my dear sir!' exclaimed Jawleyford,half-gaily, half-moodily, extending a couple of fingers as Sponge enteredhis study: 'we thought you had taken French leave of us, and were off.'

  Mr. Sponge asked if his groom had not delivered his note.

  'No,' replied Jawleyford boldly, though he had it in his pocket; 'at least,not that I've seen. Mrs. Jawleyford, perhaps, may have got it,' added he.

  'Indeed!' exclaimed Sponge; 'it was very idle of him.' He then proceeded todetail to Jawleyford what the reader already knows, how he had lost his dayat Larkhall Hill, and had tried to make up for it by going to thecross-roads. 'Ah!' exclaimed Jawleyford, when he was done; 'that's apity--great pity--monstrous pity--never knew anything so unlucky in mylife.'

  'Misfortunes will happen,' replied Sponge, in a tone of unconcern.

  'Ah, it wasn't so much the loss of the hunt I was thinking of,' repliedJawleyford, 'as the arrangements we have made in consequence of thinkingyou were gone.'

  'What are they?' asked Sponge.

  'Why, my Lord Barker, a great friend of ours--known him from a boy--justlike brothers, in short--sent over this morning to ask us allthere--shooting party, charades, that sort of thing--and we accepted.'

  'But that need make no difference,' replied Sponge; 'I'll go too.'

  Jawleyford was taken aback. He had not calculated upon so much coolness.

  'Well,' stammered he, 'that might do, to be sure; but--if--I'm not quitesure that I could take any one--'

  'But if you're as thick as you say, you can have no difficulty,' repliedour friend.

  'True,' replied Jawleyford; 'but then we go a large party ourselves--twoand two's four,' said he, 'to say nothing of servants; besides, hislordship mayn't have room--house will most likely be full.'

  'Oh, a single man can always be put up; shake-down--anything does for him,'replied Sponge. 'But you would lose your hunting,' replied Jawleyford.'Barkington Tower is quite out of Lord Scamperdale's country.'

  'That doesn't matter,' replied Sponge, adding, 'I don't think I'll troublehis lordship much more. These Flat Hat gentlemen are not over and abovecivil, in my opinion.'

  'Well,' replied Jawleyford, nettled at this thwarting of his attempt,'that's for your consideration. However, as you've come, I'll talk to Mrs.Jawleyford, and see if we can get off the Barkington expedition.'

  'But don't get off on my account,' replied Sponge. 'I can stay here quitewell. I dare say you'll not be away long.'

  This was worse still; it held out no hope of getting rid of him. Jawleyfordtherefore resolved to try and smoke and starve him out. When our friendwent to dress, he found his old apartment, the state-room, put away, theheavy brocade curtains brown-hollanded, the jugs turned upside down, thebed stripped of its clothes and the looking-glass laid a-top of it.

  The smirking housemaid, who was just rolling the fire-irons up in thehearth-rug, greeted him with a 'Please, sir, we've shifted you into thebrown room, east,' leading the way to the condemned cell that 'Jack' hadoccupied, where a newly lit fire was puffing out dense clouds of brownsmoke, obscuring even the gilt letters on the back of _Mogg's Cab Fares_,as the little volume lay on the toilet-table.

  'What's happened now?' asked our friend of the maid, putting his arm roundher waist, and giving her a hearty squeeze. 'What's happened now, thatyou've
put me into this dog-hole?' asked he.

  'Oh! I don't know,' replied she, laughing; 'I s'pose they're afraid you'llbring the old rotten curtains down in the other room with smokin'. Master'sa sad old wife,' added she.

  A great change had come over everything. The fare, the lights, the footmen,the everything, underwent grievous diminution. The lamps were extinguished,and the transparent wax gave way to Palmer's composites, under the mildinfluence of whose unsearching light the young ladies sported their dasheddresses with impunity. Competition between them, indeed, was about an end.Amelia claimed Mr. Sponge, should he be worth having, and should theScamperdale scheme fail; while Emily, having her mamma's assurance that hewould not do for either of them, resigned herself complacently to what shecould not help.

  MR. SPONGE DEMANDING AN EXPLANATION]

  Mr. Sponge, on his part, saw that all things portended a close. He carednothing about the old willow-pattern set usurping the place of theJawleyford-armed china; but the contents of the dishes were bad, and thewine, if possible, worse. Most palpable Marsala did duty for sherry, andthe corked port was again in requisition. Jawleyford was no longer thebrisk, cheery-hearted Jawleyford of Laverick Wells, but a crusty, fidgety,fire-stirring sort of fellow, desperately given to his _Morning Post_.

  Worst of all, when Mr. Sponge retired to his den to smoke a cigar and studyhis dear cab fares, he was so suffocated with smoke that he was obliged toput out the fire, notwithstanding the weather was cold, indeed inclining tofrost. He lit his cigar notwithstanding; and, as he indulged in it, he ranall the circumstances of his situation through his mind. His pressinginvitation--his magnificent reception--the attention of the ladies--and nowthe sudden change everything had taken. He couldn't make it out, somehow;but the consequences were plain enough. 'The fellow's a humbug,' at lengthsaid he, throwing the cigar-end away, and turning into bed, when theinformation Watson the keeper gave him on arriving recurred to his mind,and he was satisfied that Jawleyford was a humbug. It was clear Mr. Spongehad made a mistake in coming; the best thing he could do now was to backout, and see if the fair Amelia would take it to heart. In the midst of hiscogitations Mr. Puffington's pressing invitation occurred to his mind, andit appeared to be the very thing for him, affording him an immediate asylumwithin reach of the fair lady, should she be likely to die.

  Next day he wrote to volunteer a visit.

  Mr. Puffington, who was still in ignorance of our friend's real character,and still believed him to be a second 'Nimrod' out on a 'tour,' wasoverjoyed at his letter; and, strange to relate, the same post that broughthis answer jumping at the proposal, brought a letter from Lord Scamperdaleto Jawleyford, saying that, 'as soon as Jawleyford was _quite alone_(scored under) he would like to pay him a visit.' His lordship, we shouldinform the reader, notwithstanding his recent mishap, still held outagainst Jack Spraggon's recommendation to get rid of Mr. Sponge by buyinghis horses, and he determined to try this experiment first. His lordshipthought at one time of entering into an explanation, telling Mr.Jawleyford the damage Sponge had done him, and the nuisance he wasentailing upon him by harbouring him; but not being a great scholar, andseveral hard words turning up that his lordship could not well clear in thespelling, he just confined himself to a laconic, which, as it turned out,was a most fortunate course. Indeed, he had another difficulty besides thespelling, for the hounds having as usual had a great run after Mr. Spongehad floored him--knocked his right eye into the heel of his left boot, ashe said--in the course of which run his lordship's horse had rolled overhim on a road, he was like the railway people--unable to distinguishbetween capital and income--unable to say which were Sponge's bangs andwhich his own; so, like a hard cricket-ball sort of a man as he was, hejust pocketed all, and wrote as we have described.

  His lordship's and Mr. Puffington's letters diffused joy into a house thatseemed likely to be distracted with trouble.

  So then endeth our thirtieth chapter, and a very pleasant ending it is, forwe leave everyone in perfect good humour and spirits, Sponge pleased athaving got a fresh billet, Jawleyford delighted at the coming of the lord,and each fair lady practising in private how to sign her Christian name inconjunction with 'Scamperdale.'