and he went on excitedly:
"Now let me see what friends we have left. The Barclays stand firm asrocks. Those Deans, too--so vulgar, but quite as friendly as before.Mrs Pontardent."
"Mrs Pontardent, father?"
"Yes, my dear, yes. Among so few, we must not be choosers. Rememberold Hobson, you know. I know nothing against her but her tables. Theygamble high; but where do they not? She has arranged for an evening,and I have promised her to go and take the management, and help her toreceive her visitors--and--er--and--"
"She has asked you to bring me?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"I could read it in your eyes, father," said Claire. "Oh, it isimpossible."
"I will not press you, my child; but it is almost life to me, and itwould be giving us a stepping-stone to recover our lost ground."
"Do you wish me to go, father?"
"If--if--you would not mind very much, my dear," he said hesitatingly."It would be helping me."
He kissed her hand and left her to her own thoughts. The tears flowedfor a while, and then, with a sigh, Claire rose with a look ofresignation on her countenance, as if she accepted her fate.
Volume Two, Chapter XX.
PRIVATE INSTRUCTIONS.
"Look here, Bell," said Major Rockley, as he stood in his quarters, withhis regimental servant before him; "you were drunk again last night?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you are not ashamed of it?"
"Yes, sir, very much ashamed of it. It's my weakness, sir."
"Weakness, you scoundrel? It's your blackguardly conduct. You havebeen under arrest so many times for this disgraceful behaviour, and Ihave such a black list against you, that if I lay it before ColonelLascelles he will have you flogged."
"But you won't do that, sir."
"Yes, I will, you scoundrel. No: I'll give you another chance."
"Thank you, sir; I was sure you would," said the young man, flushingslightly, and with a strange look in his face.
"By the way, what time did Mr Denville come back to his quarters?"
"Two o'clock, sir."
"With whom had he been?"
"Sir Matthew Bray, sir. Lady Drelincourt's, I think."
"Humph! Now, look here; can I trust you, Bell?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I'm going to give you a delicate bit of business to do for me."
"Yes, sir."
"If you do it well, I shall give you a clean slate to begin again, andwipe off that last report."
"Thankye, sir."
"I cannot--at least I do not wish to--be seen in the businesspreparations, so I trust to you."
"Yes, sir."
"Go directly then, to Moggridge's, and arrange for a post-chaise andfour to be at Prince's Road to-night at--say eleven--no; half-past ten."
"Yes, sir."
"Pick good fast horses. Pack a light valise with a change; put mypistols in the pockets of the carriage, and you will be there ready tosee me off. You understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"There's--well, to be plain with you--a lady in the case."
"I see, sir."
"And, mind this; after we have started, you stay behind, and if there isany inquiry directly after, you volunteer information, and say we havetaken the London Road. You understand?"
"Quite, sir."
"There's a sovereign for you. No: you'll get drunk if I give it younow. I'll give you five when I come back."
"Very good, sir."
"And mind, if I am wanted, I am unwell in bed. I want a good start."
"I see, sir. You may depend on me. But what house, sir, in Prince'sRoad?"
"You'll see, blockhead. The one that is lighted up. MrsPontardent's."
Major Rockley's regimental servant saluted, turned upon his heel, andwent out muttering "Scoundrel!" between his teeth. "I wonder who thelady is?"
"I wouldn't change places with you, my fine fellow," he muttered, as hewent across the parade ground; and, turning a corner, he came suddenlyupon Sir Harry Payne, Sir Matthew Bray, and the new cornet, who flushedscarlet, as he saw the dragoon.
James Bell saluted, and was passing, but Sir Harry Payne stopped him,and Cornet Denville said hastily:
"I've left my cigar-case. Join you directly."
He went away quickly, and Sir Harry Payne said:
"Where are you going, Bell?"
"Major's washerwoman, sir," said the dragoon promptly.
"Then you can call at River's for me. Half a dozen pairs of white kidgloves. He knows my size. Shall he get you some, Matt?"
"No; not going."
"Isn't she going?"
"No."
"Never mind; you'd better come. Denville's pretty sister will bethere."
"Phew! Will she?" said Sir Matthew, whistling. "I say, mind whatyou're about. There may be a row."
"Not there. I shan't notice her; and if I did, Denville's all right.We're the best of friends now."
"But are you sure she's coming?"
"Pontardent told me herself. She came round the old man."
"Then I will come. Order me some gloves, Harry. I've no change."
"You never do have any. Here! Tell them to send half a dozen pairs forSir Matthew, and put them down to me. What's the matter with your lip?"
"My lip, sir?"
"Yes; it's bleeding."
"Cracked, sir."
"Yes: fevered. Drink too much. That will do. Nines, or tens--thegloves?"
"No, no: eights," cried Sir Matthew; and the dragoon went on out of thebarrack gates, with his face growing grey.
"This is being a soldier," he muttered. "The scoundrel! If I thrashhim till he can't move, they'll shoot me. But no, it can't be. She'stoo good a girl. Impossible. Besides, I shall be there."
He went straight to the livery-stable keeper, and arranged for the bestfour horses he had, and gave the man a hint.
"Very private, you know."
"Right, my lad. I know what the Major is. Here's half-a-crown for youto get a glass."
"Thank ye."
James Bell pocketed the coin, and went off back to pack his master'svalise, and load the case of pistols ready to take to the chaise in theevening, after which he went to have one half-pint of ale, for he wassuffering from a severe sensation of thirst, one that he often felt comeon.
"Just one glass," he said. "That's all."
James Bell partook of his one glass, but it was not all. Then he wentback to see to the horses in his charge in a stable near the barracks--two belonging to the Major, and one of the Colonel's.
The helper was there, and as the extra work would fall to his share thatnight, there was an excuse for giving him a glass of ale, of which hepartook, nothing loth.
The message of Sir Harry Payne had been given, the clothes were packedup, the pistols ready. Yes, every thing had been done; and at last,when it was getting dark, James Bell, looking very stern and determined,and with a tendency to walk extremely straight, as if he were aiming atsomething right ahead, went off to Moggridge's, placed the packed valiseunder the seat of the post-chaise, the pistols in the pockets, and thenhad a chat with the postboys, and--a glass of ale.
There was an hour yet to the time, so he strolled to the end of theyard, and thought he would just go as far as the stables to see if thehelper had properly bedded down the horses; and this proving to be thecase, and a shilling still remaining unspent of that half-crown, thedragoon suggested that a pot of the best ale should be fetched, and thatthey should drink it before he went.
The helper was worthy of his title, and fetched the ale, and then, oneseated on a truss of straw, the other upon the corn-bin, the two menfinished the ale between them, and just at the time that James Bellshould have been at Mrs Pontardent's gate, he was fast asleep in thestable.
That afternoon Mr Barclay was busy with his partner, when a visitor wasannounced, and as it was probably a call relating to money matters, MrsBarclay left the room.
"Oh,
it's you, Moggridge," said Barclay gruffly. "You don't want money,I'm sure."
"Thank ye, no, Mr Barclay, sir," said the visitor, a closely shaven,sharp-faced man, with bow legs. "Things is moving, sir. I'm doingtidy;" and he went on chewing a piece of clover hay, which he hadbetween his lips.
"What do you want then?"
"Well, you know what you said, sir, after the Hon. Tom Badgley went offthat night, and dodged