CHAPTER XXVIII
WARNING
In the evening, which was Wednesday, I repaired to the gardens, payingfor my admission, but no longer in the character of a fine gentleman.Lord Fylingdale was not present, nor Molly. Lady Anastasia was there,gracious and smiling as usual. Nothing was said about her approachingdeparture. After walking round the long room she retired to the cardroom, and play began as usual. It seemed to me, looking on with a fewothers at the door, that there was a kind of awkwardness or constraintamong the company. They collected together in small groups, whichwhispered to each other; then these groups melted away, forming newcompanies, which in their turn dissolved. Something of importance hadhappened. Presently some of the gentlemen in the card room came out.They, in their turn, became surrounded and formed into another group,who whispered eagerly with each other. They were standing near thedoor, and I overheard some of their discourse. "I am assured," one ofthem was saying, "that he has been ordered out of the assembly at Bathfor foul play at cards, and I have it on the best authority that hewas driven off the Heath of Newmarket." I did not know of whom he wasspeaking.
"Truly," said another, "we seem to have fallen into the midst of avery pretty set of sharpers. Will Tom Rising, if he gets the better ofhis wound, have to pay that debt? I think not. A debt of honour canonly be contracted with a man of honour."
"On the other hand, sir, if Tom had won he would have looked forpayment."
"Why, sir, that is true. But observe, when we played with the colonelwe took him for a man of honour. Some of us have won a few guineas ofhim. Should we return them? No. And why? Because we accepted him as aman of honour, and stood to win or lose as between gentlemen. Now, onedoes not play with a sharper knowingly. One would not take his money;one would not pay him if we lost."
"Then Tom must not pay."
"If what we hear is true; if the man has been exposed at Bath; if hehas been warned off the Heath of Newmarket; most assuredly Tom mustnot pay a farthing."
"At present the fever is still upon him. Well, but we must wait. Allthis may be mere rumour."
"It may be, as you say; but I think not. The report comes fromHoughton, Sir Robert's place, where a certain cousin of Tom Rising,member of Parliament, I think, for Ipswich, is now staying as a guest.Houghton is only a few miles from Lynn. It lies in the marshland. Thisgentleman, then, heard of the duel and the wound, and has been to seehis cousin."
"Is he still in the town? Can one have speech with him?"
"I think not. He has gone back to Houghton. But he will return. I aminformed that he inquired into the whole particulars; that he learnedof his cousin's heavy losses at play to one, Colonel Lanyon. 'Lanyon?'says my Parliament man. 'I know that name--Colonel Lanyon? Why, thefellow ought not to show his face among gentlemen,' and then out camethe whole story."
"Still," said the other, "he may be mistaken."
"Men are not often mistaken in such matters. But, sir, I can tell youmore. There are gentlemen in Sir Robert's party, at Houghton, whoprofess to know strange things about others of our visitors fromLondon. I will mention no names, yet there will be a surprise for somewho pretend to be what they are not. I say no more, except to adviseyou not to neglect next Friday's assembly. Meantime, silence, let ussay nothing."
The little group broke up. I paid small attention to the words. Thecolonel was quite unknown to me, except as a constant attendant in thecard room. But I observed that the whispering went on, and increased,and that every man in every group presently went away and formed othergroups, and that more communications were made and more discussionsfollowed, and that on every one was enjoined a promise of the greatestsecrecy.
Also I observed that every group contained the same varieties oflisteners. There was the open-mouthed man, who gaped with wonder; thewise man after the event, who had always entertained suspicions; theindignant man, who was for immediate measures; the slow man, who wouldwait; and the critical man, who wanted evidence and proof. I dare saythere were more.
Such whisperings and such groups do not create cheerfulness in acompany. Suspicion and jealousy were in the air that night; the musicplayed and the fiddlers scraped; the singers squalled; the peoplewalked round and round, after their usual fashion; there was plenty ofconversation and of animation; they were excited; they were evidentlylooking forward to some important event; but they were not laughing,nor paying compliments, nor talking of dress, nor were they listeningto the music or the singers.
And a very curious circumstance happened in the card room. There wasat first the usual crowd of players sitting and standing; the usualstaking of guineas, and laying and taking odds; it was, in fact, anordinary evening, when the company pressed round the table and thegame went on merrily. Then one or two people came in from the longroom. There were whispers; two or three left their places and retiredfrom the room. Other people came in from the long room; there weremore whispers; more players gave up their seats and left the room.After a while there was no one left in the card room at all exceptLady Anastasia, Sir Harry Malyns, and Colonel Lanyon. The croupierstill stood at the head of the table, rake in hand, crying the mainand proclaiming the odds. Seeing no one else at the table, the twoplayers desisted.
"What does it mean?" asked the lady, looking round. "We are deserted."
"I know not," Sir Harry replied. "Some distraction in the gardens;probably a quarrel; one of the bumpkins has perhaps struck another."
He went out to inquire, but came back immediately. "There is nodistraction," he said. "Nothing has happened; the people are walkinground as usual."
"Something, surely," said the lady, "must have happened. Why are thetables deserted? Such a thing has never occurred before. Colonel, willyou kindly find out what it means? I have the vapours to-night, Ithink. My mind misgives me."
Colonel Lanyon rose and walked to the door. He looked up and down thelong room and returned. "Nothing has happened," he said. "They are allstrangers to me. But since there is no more play I will e'en betake meto the tavern."
"And I," said the lady, "will go home. Sir Harry, please call myfellows."
Sir Harry led her through the long room to the door. As she got intothe chair, she said, "Sir Harry, there is something brewing. I caughtlooks of hostility as we passed through the room. Do you think it isthe jealousy of the women about that girl with the diamonds?"
"I observed no hostile looks."
"Men never see such things. I tell you I not only saw them, but I feltthem. We have given these people mortal offence. They are gentlefolk.We come among them, and we admit to our society a girl who has nopretence to gentility. Lord Fylingdale dances with her; I take her tothe assembly. Lord Fylingdale actually follows her when she is carriedoff and fights for her and rescues her. This is a thing which he mightdo for any of those ladies, and with no more than the customaryjealousies; but with such a girl it makes bad blood."
"Hostile looks mean nothing. What if there is bad blood?"
"Sir Harry--Sir Harry--it is only in London, and not always there,that we account ourselves free from revenge. It is a revengeful world,and there are many people in it who would willingly put you and me andthe colonel, not to speak of the parson and the earl himself, inpillory, and pelt us with rotten eggs and dead cats."
So she got into her chair, and the old beau, shaking his head, calledhis own chair and was carried home.
But Colonel Lanyon who walked to the tavern where his friends metevery night found the place, to his astonishment, empty. Then he, too,remembered certain signs of hostility or resentment, notably thedesertion of the players, and the cold looks as he left the place.Now, as the worthy adventurer and sharper was by no means conscious ofinnocence, he began to feel uneasy. To such men as those who live bytheir wits there is always the danger that some past scandal may berevived, some former half forgotten villainy remembered.
Therefore he became disquieted. He had some reason for disquiet, for,to begin with, he had done very well. Tom Rising would recover, it wasthought. He would re
cover in a week or two, or more. He would then, asa man of honour, have to raise, by hook or by crook, the sum ofL1,200, of which, by the compact, one-fourth was to be the colonel'sand three-fourths were the earl's. This is a large sum of money to winor to lose. Now, if anything inopportune was to occur, such as therevival of an old scandal--say that of Bath, or that of TunbridgeWells, or that of Newmarket, these winnings would be in a dangeroussituation.
A gentleman who lives by his wits, although he may be a good swordsmanand a good shot with a pistol, cannot escape the consequences of ascandal. The thing follows him from place to place. It gets intotaverns and hangs about gaming-houses; it stands between him and hisprey; it snatches the young and inexperienced player from his grasp;it even prevents the payment of the debts commonly called of honour.Now, the colonel had been about town and in the haunts of gamestersfor a good score of years, and, truth to tell, he now found itdifficult, anywhere, to be received into the company of gentlemen.
While he sat in the empty room one of the gentlemen, its frequenters,came in. The colonel looked up.
"Why, sir," he said, "where is the company this evening?"
"There will be no company to-night, colonel."
"Ay--ay? No company? Where are they all, then?"
"To be frank with you, Colonel Lanyon, I am deputed to inform you thatcertain things are rumoured about you which must be explained."
"Certain things, sir?" The colonel sprang to his feet. "To beexplained? This is a very ugly word. To be explained. The word, sir,attacks my honour."
"It does so, colonel. You are quite right."
"Then, sir, you and your friends will have to fight me."
"We will willingly fight with--a man of honour. Not only that, butwhere a man of honour is concerned we should be most willing to offeran apology, if we have attacked his honour. To be brief, colonel,certain things have been said concerning you and your honour. Theyhave been alleged behind your back."
"Well, sir, suppose my assailant meets me face to face. Gad, sir, heshall meet me on the grass."
"Softly, softly, colonel. There will be no fighting, I assure you. Asfor anything else, that depends on yourself. Frankly, colonel, theyare very nasty things. On the other hand, I assure you that, as wehave received you without suspicion, we shall stand by you loyally."
"In that case we need not talk of explanations."
"Loyally, I say, unless the explanations are not forthcoming."
"Give me the statements or the charges."
"I cannot, colonel. They are at present vague. But I am instructed toinvite you to be present in the card room on Friday evening next, whenan opportunity will be afforded you of hearing what has been statedand of replying. Colonel, we have found you very good company. We alldesire to retain you as a friend."
"But, sir, permit me. This is monstrous. You tell me of charges, youavoid my society, you refuse to tell me the nature of the charges, andyou call upon me to reply on the spot without knowing----"
"Your reply will be quite easy. It really means either yes or no. Andif, as I doubt not, you can disprove whatever is alleged, you willyourself entirely approve of our action in separating for a time froma man accused of things dishonourable, of giving him an opportunity ofreply, also of my warning."
"Why, sir, if to be grateful for such a warning and for such generalcharges is a duty, I will be grateful. Meantime----"
"Meantime, colonel, you know your past life better than any one. Ifthere is in it anything of which you are ashamed let me recommend youto present that affair in as favourable a light as possible. Men willquarrel over cards. Accusations are easily made. The duel next morningdoes not clear away suspicion. If, however, there is nothing, as Ihope, come with a light heart and a cheerful countenance, and we shallrally round you as brothers and men of honour. I wish you good-night,Colonel Lanyon, until Friday, after which I hope to sit here besideyou, the bowl of punch on the table, and your songs and stories tokeep us awake, till we sit down again to the cards."