Chippinge Borough

  XVI

  LESS THAN A HERO

  It was the evening of the day on which the meeting between ArthurVaughan and Mr. Pybus had taken place, and from the thirty-six windowsin the front of Stapylton lights shone on the dusky glades of thepark; here, twinkling fairy-like over the long slope of sward thatshimmered pale-green as with the ghostly reflection of dead daylight,there, shining boldly upon the clump of beeches that topped aneminence with blackness. Vaughan sat beside Isaac White in thecarriage which Sir Robert had sent for him; and looking curiouslyforth on the demesne which would be his if he lived, he could scarcelybelieve his eyes. Was the old squire so sure of victory that healready illuminated his windows? Or was the house, long sparelyinhabited, and opened only at rare intervals and to dull and formalparties, full now from attic to hall? Election or no election, itseemed unlikely. Yet every window, yes, every window had its light!

  He was too proud to question the agent who, his errand done, and hismessage delivered, showed no desire to talk. More than once, indeed,in the course of their short companionship, Vaughan had caught Whitelooking at him strangely; with something like pity in his eyes. Andthough the young man was far from letting this distress him--probablyWhite, with his inborn reverence for Sir Robert, despaired of all whofell under his displeasure--it closed his lips and hardened his heart.He was no paid servant; but a kinsman and the heir. And he would haveSir Robert remember this. For his own part, he was not going to forgetwho he was; that a Chancellor had stooped to flatter him and a CabinetMinister had offered him a seat. He had refused for a point of honoura bait which few would have refused; and he was not going to bebrowbeaten by an old gentleman whom the world had out-paced, and whosebeliefs, whose prejudices, whose views, were of yesterday. Who, in hisprofound ignorance of present conditions, would plunge England intocivil war rather than resign a privilege as obsolete as ship-money,and as illegal as the Dispensing Power.

  While he thought of this the carriage stopped at the door. He alightedand ascended the steps.

  The hall more than made good the outside promise; it was brilliantlylighted, and behind Mapp and the servant who received him Vaughan hada passing glimpse of three or four men in full-dress livery. From thedining-room on his left issued peals of laughter, and voices, so clearthat, though he had not the smallest reason to expect to hear themthere, he was sure that he caught Bob Flixton's tones. The discoverywas not pleasing; but Mapp, turning the other way and giving him notime to think, went before him to the suite of state-rooms--which hehad not seen in use more than thrice within his knowledge of thehouse. It must be so then--he thought with a slight shock of surprise.The place must be full! For the gilt mirrors in both the large andsmall drawing-rooms reflected the soft light of many candles, woodfires burned and crackled on the hearths, the "Morning Chronicle," the"Quarterly," and other signs of life lay about on the round tables,and an air of cheerful _bienseance_ pervaded all. What did it mean?

  "Sir Robert has finished dinner, sir," Mapp said--even he seemed towear an unusual air of solemnity. "He will be with you, sir,immediately. Hope you are well, sir?"

  "Quite well, Mapp, thank you."

  Then he was left alone--to wonder if a second surprise awaited him. Hehad had one that day. If a second were in store for him what was itsnature? Could Sir Robert on his side be going to offer him one of theseats--if he would recant? He hoped not. But he had not time to givemore than a thought to that before he heard footsteps and voicescrossing the hall. The next moment there entered the outer room--atsuch a distance from the hearth of the room in which he stood, that hehad a leisurely view of all before they reached him--three persons.The first was a tall burly man in slovenly evening clothes, and withan ungainly rolling walk; after him came Sir Robert himself, and afterhim again, Isaac White.

  Vaughan advanced a step or two, and Sir Robert passed by the burlyman, who had a pendulous under lip, and a face at once flabby andmelancholy. The baronet held out his hand. "We have not quarrelledyet, Mr. Vaughan," he said, with a cordiality which took Vaughan quiteby surprise. "I trust and believe that we are not going to quarrel. Ibid you welcome therefore. This," he continued with a gesture ofcourteous deference, "is Sir Charles Wetherell, whom you know byreputation, and whom, for a reason which you will understand by andby, I have asked to be present at our interview."

  The stout man eyed Vaughan from under bushy eyebrows. "I think we havemet before," he said in a deep voice. "At Westminster, Mr. Vaughan, onthe 22nd of last month." He had a habit of blinking as he talked. "Iwas beholden to you on that occasion."

  Vaughan had already recognised him and recalled the incident in PalaceYard. He bowed with an expression of silent sympathy. But he wonderedall the more. The presence of the late attorney-general, a man of markin the political world, whose defeat at Norwich was in that morning'spaper--what did it mean? Did they think to browbeat him? Or--had SirCharles Wetherell also an offer to make to him? In any event it seemedthat he had made himself a personage by his independence. Sought bythe one side, sought by the other! A resume of the answer he wouldgive flashed before him. However, they were not come to that yet!

  "Will you sit down," said Sir Robert. The great man's voice andmanner--to Vaughan's surprise--were less autocratic and more friendlythan he had ever known them. Indeed, in comparison of the lion of lastevening he was but a mouse. "In the first place," he continued, "I amobliged to you for your compliance with my wishes."

  Vaughan murmured that he had come at no inconvenience to himself.

  "I hope not," Sir Robert replied. "In the next place let me say, thatwe have to speak to you on a matter of the first importance; a matteralso on which we have the advantage of knowledge which you have not.It is my desire, therefore, to admit you to a parity with us in thatrespect, Mr. Vaughan, before you express yourself on any subject onwhich we are likely to differ."

  Vaughan looked keenly, almost suspiciously at him; and an observerwould have noticed that there was a closer likeness between the twomen than the slender tie of blood warranted. "If it is a question, SirRobert," he said slowly, "of the subject on which we differed lastevening, I would prefer to say at once----"

  "Don't!" Wetherell, who was seated within a long reach of him, struckin. "Don't!" And he laid an elephantine and not over-clean hand onVaughan's knee. "You can spill words as easy as water," he continued,"and they are as hard to pick up again. Hear what Vermuyden hasto say, and what I've to say--'tisn't much--and then blow yourtrumpet--if you've any breath left!" he added _sotto voce_, as hethrew himself back.

  Vaughan hesitated a moment. Then, "Very good," he said, "if you willhear me afterwards. But----"

  "But and If are two wenches always raising trouble!" Wetherell criedcoarsely. "Do you listen, Mr. Vaughan. Do you listen. Now, Vermuyden,go on."

  But Sir Robert did not seem to have words at command. He took a pinchof snuff from the gold box with which his fingers trifled: and heopened his mouth to resume; but he hesitated. At length, "What I haveto tell you, Mr. Vaughan," he said, in a voice more diffident thanusual, "had perhaps been more properly told by my attorney to yours. Ifully admit that," dusting the snuff from his frill. "And it wouldhave been so told but for--but for exigencies not immediatelyconnected with it, which are nevertheless so pressing as to--to induceme to take the one step immediately possible. Less regular, butimmediately possible! In spite of this, you will believe, I am sure,that I do not wish to take any advantage of you other than," he pausedwith an embarrassed look at Wetherell, "that which my position givesme. For the rest I"--he looked again at his snuffbox and hesitated--"Ithink--I----"

  "You'd better come to the point!" Wetherell growled impatiently,jerking his ungainly person back in his chair, and lurching forwardagain. "To the point, man! Shall I tell him?"

  Sir Robert straightened himself--with a sigh of relief. "If youplease," he said, "I think you had better. It--it may come better fromyou, as you are not interested."

  Vaughan lo
oked from one to the other, and wondered what on earth theymeant, and what they would be at. His cordial reception followed bythis strange exordium, the preparations, the presence of the three menseated about him and all, it seemed, ill at ease--these things begotinstinctive misgivings; and an uneasiness, which it was not in thepower of reason to hold futile. What were they meditating? Whatthreat, what inducement? And what meant this strange illumination ofthe house, this air of festivity? It could be nothing to him. Andyet--but Wetherell was speaking.

  "Mr. Vaughan," he said gruffly--and he swayed himself as was his habitto and fro in his seat, "my friend here, and your kinsman, has made adiscovery of--of the utmost possible importance to him; and, speakingcandidly, of scarcely less importance to you. I don't know whether youread the trash they call novels now-a-days--'The Disowned'" with asnort of contempt, "and 'Tremayne' and the rest? I hope not, I don't!But it's something devilish like the stuff they put in them that I'veto tell you. You'll believe it or not, as you please. You thinkyourself heir to the Stapylton estates? Of course you do. Sir Roberthas no more than a life-interest, and if he has no children, thereversion in fee, as we lawyers call it, is yours. Just so. But if hehas children, son or daughter, you are ousted, Mr. Vaughan."

  "Are you going to tell me," Vaughan said, his face grown suddenlyrigid, "that he has children?" His heart was beating furiously underhis waistcoat, but, taken aback as he was, he maintained outwardcomposure.

  "That's it," Wetherell answered bluntly.

  "Then----"

  "He has a daughter."

  "It will have to be proved!" Vaughan said slowly and in the tone of aman who chose his words. And he rose to his feet. He felt, perhaps hewas justified in feeling, that they had taken him at a disadvantage.That they had treated him unfairly in trapping him hither, one tothree; in order that they might see, perhaps, how he took it! Not--histhoughts travelled rapidly over the facts known to him--that the thingcould be true! The punishment for last night's revolt fell too pat,too _a propos_, he'd not believe it! And besides, it could not betrue. For Lady Vermuyden lived, and there could be no question of aconcealed marriage, or a low-born family. "It will have to be proved!"he repeated firmly. "And is matter rather for my lawyers than for me."

  Sir Robert, too, had risen to his feet. But it was Wetherell whospoke.

  "Perhaps so!" he said. "Perhaps so. Indeed I admit it, young sir! Itwill have to be proved. But----"

  "It should have been told to them rather than to me!" Vaughanrepeated, with a sparkling eye. And he turned as if he were determinedto treat them as hostile and to have nothing farther to say to them.

  But Wetherell stopped him. "Stay, young man," he said, "and be ashamedof yourself! You forget yourself!" And before Vaughan, stung andangry, could retort upon him, "You forget," he continued, "that thistouches another as closely as it touches you--and more closely! Youare a gentleman, sir, and Sir Robert's kinsman. Have you no word then,for him!" pointing, with a gesture roughly eloquent, to his host. "Youlose, but have you no word for him who gains! You lose, but is itnothing to him that he finds himself childless no longer, heirless nolonger? That his house is no longer lonely, his hearth no longerempty! Man alive," he added, dropping with honest indignation to a lownote, "you lose, but what does he not gain? And have you no word, nogenerous thought for him? Bah!" throwing himself back in his seat."Poor human nature."

  "Still it must be proved," said Vaughan sullenly, though in his hearthe acknowledged the truth of the reproach.

  "Granted! But will you not hear what it is, that is to be proved?"Wetherell retorted. "If so, sit down, sir, sit down, and hear what wehave to tell you like a man. Will you do that," in a tone of extremeexasperation, which did but reflect the slowly hardening expression ofSir Robert's face, "or are you quite a fool?"

  Vaughan hesitated, looking with angry eyes on Wetherell. Then he satdown. "Am I to understand," he said coldly, "that this is news to SirRobert?"

  "It was news to him yesterday."

  Vaughan bowed and was silent; aware that a more generous demeanourwould better become him, but unable to compass it on the spur of themoment. He was ignorant--unfortunately--of the spirit in which he hadbeen summoned: consequently he could not guess that every word heuttered rang churlishly in the ears of more than one of his listeners.He was no churl; but he was taken unfairly--as it seemed to him. Andto be called upon in the first moment of chagrin to congratulate SirRobert on an event which ruined his own prospects and changed hislife--was too much. Too much! But again Wetherell was speaking.

  "You shall know what we know from the beginning," he said, in hisheavy melancholy way. "You are aware, I suppose, that Sir Robertmarried--in the year '10, was it not?--Yes, in the year '10, and thatLady Vermuyden bore him one child, a daughter, who died in Italy inthe year '15. It appears now--we are in a position to prove, Ithink--that that child did not die in that year, nor in any year; butis now alive, is in this country and can be perfectly identified."

  Vaughan coughed. "This is strange news," he said, "after all theseyears; and somewhat sudden, is it not?"

  Sir Robert's face grew harder, but Wetherell only shrugged hisshoulders. "If you will listen," he replied, "you will know all thatwe know. It is no secret, at any rate in this room it is no secret,that in the year '14 Sir Robert fancied that he had grave reason to bedispleased with Lady Vermuyden. It was thought by her friends that abetter agreement might be produced by a temporary separation, and thechild's health afforded a pretext. Accordingly, Sir Robert sufferedLady Vermuyden to take it abroad, her suite consisting of a courier, amaid, and a nurse. The nurse she sent back to England not longafterwards on the plea that an Italian woman from whom the child mightlearn the language would be better. For my part, I believe that sheacted bona-fide in this. But in other respects," puffing out hischeeks, "her conduct was such as to alarm her husband; and, in termsperhaps too peremptory, Sir Robert bade her return at once--or ceaseto consider his house as her home. Her answer was the announcement ofthe child's death."

  "And that it did not die," Vaughan murmured, "as Lady Vermuyden said?"

  "We have this evidence. But first let me say, that Sir Robert on thereceipt of the news set out for Italy overland. The Hundred Days,however, stopped him; he could not cross France, and he returnedwithout certifying the child's death. He had indeed no suspicion, noreason for suspicion. Well, then, for evidence that it did not die.The courier is dead, and there remains only the maid. She is alive,she is here, she is in this house. And it is from her that we havelearned the truth--that the child did not die."

  He paused a moment, brooding in his fat, melancholy way on the patternof the carpet between his feet. Sir Robert, with a face hard andproud, sat upright, listening to the tale of his misfortunes--anddoubtless suffered torments as he listened.

  "Her story," Wetherell resumed--possibly he had been arranging histhoughts--"is this. Lady Vermuyden was living a life of the wildestgaiety. She had no affection for the child; if the woman is to bebelieved, she hated it. To part with it was nothing to her one way orthe other, and on receipt of Sir Robert's order to return, herladyship conceived the idea of punishing him by abducting the childand telling him it was dead. She set out from Florence with it; on theway she left it at Orvieto in charge of the Italian nurse, andarriving in Rome she put about the story of its death. Shortlyafterwards she had it carried to England and bred up in anestablishment near London--always with the aid and connivance of hermaid."

  "The maid's name?" Vaughan asked.

  "Herapath--Martha Herapath. But to proceed. By and by Lady Vermuydenreturned to England, and settled at Brighton, and the maid left herand married, but continued to draw a pension from her. Lady Vermuydenpersisted here--in the company of Lady Conyng--but I need name nonames--in the same course of giddiness, if no worse, which she hadpursued abroad; and gave little if any heed to the child. But thiswoman Herapath never forgot that the pension she enjoyed was dependenton her power to prove the truth: and when a short time back the girl,now well
-grown, was withdrawn from her knowledge, she grew restive.She sought Lady Vermuyden, always a creature of impulse, and when herladyship, foolish in this as in all things, refused to meet her viewsshe--she came to us," he continued, lifting his head abruptly andlooking at Vaughan, "and told us the story."

  "It will have to be proved," Vaughan said stubbornly.

  "No doubt, strictly proved," Wetherell replied. "In the meantime ifyou would like to peruse the facts in greater detail, they are here,as taken down from the woman's mouth." He drew from his capaciousbreast-pocket a manuscript consisting of several sheets which heunfolded and flattened on his knee. He handed it to Vaughan.

  The young man took it, without looking at Sir Robert: and with histhoughts in a whirl--and underlying them a sick feeling of impendingmisfortune--he proceeded to read it, line after line, without takingin a single word. For all the time his brain was at work measuring thechange. His modest competence would be left to him. He would haveenough to live as he was now living, and to pursue his career; or, inthe alternative, he might settle down as a small squire in hispaternal home in South Wales. But the great inheritance which hadloomed large in the background of his life and had been more to himthan he had admitted, the future dignity which he had undervaluedwhile he thought it his own, the position more enviable than many apeer's, and higher by its traditions than any to which he could attainby his own exertions, though he reached the Woolsack--these were goneif Wetherell's tale was true. Gone in a moment, at a word! And thoughhe might have lost more, though many a man had lost his all by such astroke and smiled, he was no hero, and he could not on the instantsmile. He could not in a moment oust all bitterness. He knew that hewas taking the news unworthily; that he was playing a poor part. Buthe could not force himself to play a better--on the instant. When hehad read with unseeing eyes to the bottom of the first page and hadturned it mechanically, he let the papers fall upon his knee.

  "You do not wish me," he said slowly, "to express an opinion now, Isuppose?"

  "No," Wetherell answered. "Certainly not. But I have not quite done. Ihave not quite done," he repeated ponderously. "I should tell you thatfor opening the matter to you now--we have two reasons, Mr. Vaughan.Two reasons. First, we think it due to you--as one of the family. Andsecondly, Vermuyden desires that from the beginning, his intentionsshall be clear and--be understood."

  "I thoroughly understand them," Vaughan answered drily. No one wasmore conscious than he that he was behaving ill.

  "That is just what you do not!" Wetherell retorted stolidly. "Youspill words, young man, and by and by you will wish to pick them upagain. You cannot anticipate, at any rate, you have no right toanticipate, Sir Robert's intentions, of which he has asked me to bethe mouthpiece. The estate, of course, and the settled funds must goto his daughter. But there is, it appears, a large sum arising fromthe economical management of the property, which is at his disposal.He feels," Wetherell continued sombrely, an elbow on each knee and hiseyes on the floor, "that some injustice has been done to you, and hedesires to compensate you for that injustice. He proposes, therefore,to secure to you the succession to two-thirds of this sum; whichamounts--which amounts, in the whole I believe"--here he looked atWhite--"to little short of eighty thousand pounds."

  Vaughan, who had been more than once on the point of interrupting him,did so at last. "I could not accept it!" he exclaimed impulsively. Andhe rose, with a hot face, from his seat. "I could not accept it."

  "As a legacy?" Wetherell, who was fond of money, said with a queerlook. "As a legacy, eh? Why not?" While Sir Robert, with compressedlips, almost repented of his generosity. He had looked for some showof good-feeling, some word of sympathy, some felicitation from theyoung man, who, after all, was his blood relation. But if this was tobe his return, if his advances were to be met with suspicion, hisbenevolence with churlishness, then all, all in this young man was ofa piece--and detestable!

  And certainly Vaughan was not showing himself in the best light. Hewas conscious that he had taken the news ill; but he could not changehis attitude in a moment. Under no circumstances is it an easy thingto take a gift with grace: to take one with grace under thesecircumstances--and when he had already misbehaved--was beyond him, asit would have been beyond most men.

  For a moment drawn this way by his temper, that way by his betterfeelings, he did not know how to answer Wetherell's last words. Atlast and lamely, "May I ask," he said, "why Sir Robert makes me thisoffer while the matter lies open?"

  "Sir Robert will prove his case," Wetherell answered gruffly, "if thatis what you mean."

  "I mean----"

  "He does not ask you to surrender anything."

  "I am bound to say, then, that the offer is very generous," Vaughanreplied, melting, and speaking with some warmth. "Most generous.But----"

  "He asks you to surrender nothing," Wetherell repeated stolidly, hisface between his knees.

  "But I still think it is premature," Vaughan persisted doggedly. "Andhandsome as it is, more than handsome as it is, I think that it wouldhave come with greater force, were my position first made clear!"

  "Maybe," Wetherell said, his face still hidden. "I don't deny that."

  "As it is," with a deep breath, "I am taken by surprise. I do not knowwhat to say. I find it hard to say anything in the first flush of thematter." And Vaughan looked from one to the other. "So, for thepresent, with Sir Robert's permission," he continued, "and without anyslight to his generosity, I will take leave. If he is good enough, torepeat on some future occasion, this very handsome--this uncalled forand generous offer, which he has now outlined, I shall know, I hope,what is due to him, without forgetting what is due also to myself. Inthe meantime I have only to thank him and----"

  But the belated congratulation which was on his lips and which mighthave altered many things, was not to be uttered.

  "One moment!" Sir Robert struck in. "One moment!" He spoke with ahardness born of long suppressed irritation. "You have taken yourstand, Mr. Vaughan, strictly on the defensive, I see----"

  "But I think you understand----"

  "Strictly on the defensive," the baronet repeated, requiring silenceby a gesture. "You must not be surprised therefore, if I--nay, let mespeak!--if I also say a word on a point which touches me."

  "I wouldn't!" Wetherell growled in his deep voice; and for an instanthe raised his huge face, and looked stolidly at the wall before him.

  But Sir Robert was not to be bidden. "I think otherwise," he said."Mr. Vaughan, the election to-morrow touches me very nearly--in moreways than one. The vote you have, you received at my hands and holdonly as my heir. I take it for granted, therefore, that under thepresent circumstances, you will use it as I desire."

  "Oh!" Vaughan said. And drawing himself up to his full height hepassed his eyes slowly from one to the other with a singular smile."Oh!" he repeated--and there was a world of meaning in his tone. "Am Ito understand then----"

  "I have made myself quite clear," Sir Robert cried, his mannerbetraying his agitation.

  "Am I to understand," Vaughan persisted, "that the offer which youmade me a few minutes back, the generous and handsome offer," hecontinued with a faint note of irony in his voice, "was dependent onmy conduct to-morrow? Am I to understand that?"

  "If you please to put it so," Sir Robert replied, his voice quiveringwith the resentment he had long and patiently suppressed. "And if yourown sense of honour does not dictate to you how to act."

  "But do you put it so?"

  "Do you mean----"

  "I mean," Vaughan said, "does the offer depend on the use I make of myvote to-morrow? That is the point, Sir Robert!"

  "No," Wetherell muttered indistinctly.

  But again Sir Robert would not be bidden. "I will be frank," he saidhaughtily. "And my answer is, yes! yes! For I do not conceive, Mr.Vaughan, that a gentleman would take so great a benefit, and refuse soslight a service! A service, too, which, quite apart from this offer,most men----"

  "Thank you," Vaughan replied, int
errupting him. "That is clearenough." And he looked from one to the other with a smile ofamusement; the smile of a man suddenly reinstated in his ownopinion--and once more master of his company. "Now I understand," hecontinued. "I see now why the offer which a few minutes ago seemed sopremature, so strangely premature, was made this evening. To-morrow ithad been made too late! My vote had been cast and I could no longerbe--bribed!"

  "Bribed, sir?" cried Sir Robert, red with anger.

  "Yes, bribed, sir. But let me tell you," Vaughan went on, allowing thebitterness which he had been feeling to appear, "let me tell you, SirRobert, that if not only my future, but my present, if my all, were atstake--I should resent such an offer as an insult!"

  Sir Robert took a step towards the bell and stopped.

  "An insult!" Vaughan repeated firmly. "As great an insult as I shouldinflict upon you, if I were unwise enough to do the errand I was askedto do a week ago--by a cabinet minister. And offered you, Sir Robert,here in your own house, a peerage conditional on your support of theBill!"

  "A peerage?" Sir Robert's eyes seemed to be starting from his head. "Apeerage! Conditional on my----"

  "Yes, sir, conditional on your renunciation of those opinions whichyou honestly hold as I honestly hold mine!" Vaughan repeated coolly."I will make the offer if you wish it."

  Wetherell rose ponderously. "See here!" he said. "Listen to me, willyou, you two! You, Vermuyden, as well as the young man. You will bothbe sorry for what you are saying now! Listen to me! Listen to me,man!"

  But the baronet was already tugging at the bell-rope. He was nolonger red; he was white with anger. And not without reason. Thiswhipper-snapper, this pettifogging lad, just out of his teens, to talkto him of peerages, to patronise him, to offer him--to--to----

  For a moment he stammered and could not speak. At last, "Enough!Enough, sir; leave my house!" he cried, shaking from head to foot withpassion, and losing for the first time in many years his self-control."Leave my house," he repeated furiously, "and never set foot in itagain! Not a pound, and not a penny will you have of mine! Never!Never! Never!"

  Vaughan smiled, "Very good, sir," he said, shrugging his shoulders."Your fortune is your own. But----"

  "Begone, sir! Not another word, but go!"

  Vaughan raised his eyebrows, bowed in a ceremonious fashion toWetherell, and nodded to White, who stood petrified and gaping. Thenhe walked slowly through that room and the next, and with one backwardsmile--vanished.

  And this time, as he passed through the hall, narrowly missing Flixtonwho was leaving the dining-room, there could be no doubt that thebreach was complete, that the small cordiality which had existedbetween the two men was at an end. The Bill, which had played so manymischievous tricks, severed so many old friends, broken the ties of somany years, had dealt no one a more spiteful blow than it had dealtArthur Vaughan.