'We will arrange it: I tell you who will do it for us. He is a good fellow, and immensely rich: it is Fitzwarrene; he owes me great favours.'

'Dear Mirabel, I am delighted to see you. This is good and kind. I am so d.a.m.ned dull here. It quite gladdens me to see you; but do not talk about money.'

'Here is 500L.; four other fellows at 500L. we can manage it.'

'No more, no more! I beseech you.'

'But you cannot stop here. _Quel drole appartement!_ Before Charley Doricourt was in Parliament he was always in this sort of houses, but I got him out somehow or other; I managed it. Once I bought of the fellow five hundred dozen of champagne.'

'A new way to pay old debts, certainly,' said Ferdinand.

'I tell you--have you dined?'

'I was going to; merely to have something to do.'

'I will stop and dine with you,' said the Count, ringing the bell, 'and we will talk over affairs. Laugh, my friend; laugh, my Armine: this is only a scene. This is life. What can we have for dinner, man? I shall dine here.'

'Gentleman's dinner is ordered, my lord; quite ready,' said the waiter.

'Champagne in ice, my lord?'

'To be sure; everything that is good. _Mon cher_ Armine, we shall have some fun.'

'Yes, my lord,' said the waiter, running down stairs. 'Dinner for best drawing-room directly; green-pea-soup, turbot, beefsteak, roast duck and boiled chicken, everything that is good, champagne in ice; two regular n.o.bs!'

The dinner soon appeared, and the two friends seated themselves.

'Potage admirable!' said Count Mirabel. 'The best champagne I ever drank in my life. _Mon brave_, your health. This must be Charley's man, by the wine. I think we will have him up; he will lend us some money. Finest turbot I ever ate! I will give you some of the fins. Ah! you are glad to see me, my Armine, you are glad to see your friend. _Encore_ champagne!

Good Armine, excellent Armine! Keep up your spirits, I will manage these fellows. You must take some bifteac. The most tender bifteac I ever tasted! This is a fine dinner. _Encore un verre!_ Man, you may go; don't wait.'

'By Jove, Mirabel, I never was so glad to see anybody in my life. Now, you are a friend; I feel quite in spirits.'

'To be sure! always be in spirits. _C'est une betise_ not to be in spirits. Everything is sure to go well. You will see how I will manage these fellows, and I will come and dine with you every day until you are out: you shall not be here eight-and-forty hours. As I go home I will stop at Mitch.e.l.l's and get you a novel by Paul de k.o.c.k. Have you ever read Paul de k.o.c.k's books?'

'Never,' said Ferdinand.

'What a fortunate man to be arrested! Now you can read Paul de k.o.c.k!

By Jove, you are the most lucky fellow I know. You see, you thought yourself very miserable in being arrested. 'Tis the finest thing in the world, for now you will read _Mon Voisin Raymond_. There are always two sides to a case.'

'I am content to believe myself very lucky in having such a friend as you,' said Ferdinand; 'but now as these things are cleared away, let us talk over affairs. Have you seen Henrietta?'

'Of course, I see her every day.'

'I hope she will not know of my crash until she has married.'

'She will not, unless you tell her.'

'And when do you think she will be married?'

'When you please.'

'_Cher ami! point de moquerie!_'

'By Jove, I am quite serious,' exclaimed the Count. 'I am as certain that you will marry her as that we are in this d.a.m.ned spunging-house.'

'Nonsense!'

'The very finest sense in the world. If you will not marry her, I will myself, for I am resolved that good Montfort shall not. It shall never be said that I interfered without a result. Why, if she were to marry Montfort now, it would ruin my character. To marry Montfort after all my trouble: dining with that good Temple, and opening the mind of that little Grandison, and talking fine things to that good d.u.c.h.ess; it would be a failure.'

'What an odd fellow you are, Mirabel!' 'Of course! Would you have me like other people and not odd? We will drink _la belle Henriette!_ Fill up! You will be my friend when you are married, eh? _Mon Armine, excellent garcon!_ How we shall laugh some day; and then this dinner, this dinner will be the best dinner we ever had!'

'But why do you think there is the slightest hope of Henrietta not marrying Montfort?'

'Because my knowledge of human nature a.s.sures me that a young woman, very beautiful, very rich, with a very high spirit, and an only daughter, will never go and marry one man when she is in love with another, and that other one, my dear fellow, like you. You are more sure of getting her because she is engaged.'

What a wonderful thing is a knowledge of human nature! thought Ferdinand to himself. The Count's knowledge of human nature is like my friend the waiter's experience. One a.s.sures me that I am certain to marry a woman because she is engaged to another person, and the other, that it is quite clear my debts will be paid because they are so large! The Count remained with his friend until eleven o'clock, when everybody was locked up. He invited himself to dine with him to-morrow, and promised that he should have a whole collection of French novels before he awoke. And a.s.suring him over and over again that he looked upon him as the most fortunate of all his friends, and that if he broke the bank at Crocky's to-night, which he fancied he should, he would send him two or three thousand pounds; at the same time he shook him heartily by the hand, and descended the staircase of the spunging-house, humming _Vive la Bagatelle_.

CHAPTER XXI.

_The Crisis_.

ALTHOUGH, when Ferdinand was once more left alone to his reflections, it did not appear to him that anything had occurred which should change his opinion of his forlorn lot, there was something, nevertheless, inspiring in the visit of his friend Count Mirabel. It did not seem to him, indeed, that he was one whit nearer extrication from his difficulties than before; and as for the wild hopes as to Henrietta, he dismissed them from his mind as the mere fantastic schemes of a sanguine spirit, and yet his gloom, by some process difficult to a.n.a.lyse, had in great measure departed. It could not be the champagne, for that was a remedy he had previously tried; it was in some degree doubtless the magic sympathy of a joyous temperament: but chiefly it might, perhaps, be ascribed to the flattering conviction that he possessed the hearty friendship of a man whose good-will was, in every view of the case, a very enviable possession. With such a friend as Mirabel, he could not deem himself quite so unlucky as in the morning. If he were fortunate, and fortunate so unexpectedly, in this instance, he might be so in others. A vague presentiment that he had seen the worst of life came over him. It was equally in vain to justify the consoling conviction or to resist it; and Ferdinand Armine, although in a spunging-house, fell asleep in better humour with his destiny than he had been for the last eight months.

His dreams were charming: he fancied that he was at Armine, standing by the Barbary rose-tree. It was moonlight; it was, perhaps, a slight recollection of the night he had looked upon the garden from the window of his chamber, the night after he had first seen Henrietta. Suddenly, Henrietta Temple appeared at his window, and waved her hand to him with a smiling face. He immediately plucked for her a flower, and stood with his offering beneath her window. She was in a riding-habit, and she told him that she had just returned from Italy. He invited her to descend, and she disappeared; but instead of Henrietta, there came forward from the old Place-----the d.u.c.h.ess, who immediately enquired whether he had seen his cousin; and then her Grace, by some confused process common in dreams, turned into Glas...o...b..ry, and pointed to the rose-tree, where, to his surprise, Katherine was walking with Lord Montfort. Ferdinand called out for Henrietta, but, as she did not appear, he entered the Place, where he found Count Mirabel dining by himself, and just drinking a gla.s.s of champagne. He complained to Mirabel that Henrietta had disappeared, but his friend laughed at him, and said that, after such a long ride, leaving Italy only yesterday, he could scarcely expect to see her. Satisfied with this explanation, Ferdinand joined the Count at his banquet, and was awakened from his sleep, and his dream apparently, by Mirabel drawing a cork.

Ah! why did he ever wake? It was so real; he had seen her so plainly; it was life; it was the very smile she wore at Ducie; that sunny glance, so full of joy, beauty, and love, which he could live to gaze on! And now he was in prison, and she was going to be married to another. Oh! there are things in this world that may well break hearts!

The cork of Count Mirabel was, however, a substantial sound, a gentle tap at his door: he answered it, and the waiter entered his chamber.

'Beg pardon, sir, for disturbing you; only eight o'clock.'

'Then why the deuce do you disturb me?' 'There has been another n.o.b, sir. I said as how you were not up, and he sent his compliments, and said as how he would call in an hour, as he wished to see you particular.' 'Was it the Count?'

'No, sir; but it was a regular n.o.b, sir, for he had a coronet on his cab. But he would not leave his name.'

'Catch, of course,' thought Ferdinand to himself. 'And sent by Mirabel.

I should not wonder, if after all, they have broken the bank at Crocky's. Nothing shall induce me to take a ducat.'

However, Ferdinand thought fit to rise, and contrived to descend to the best drawing-room about a quarter of an hour after the appointed time.

To his extreme surprise he found Lord Montfort.

'My dear friend,' said Lord Montfort, looking a little confused; 'I am afraid I have sadly disturbed you. But I could not contrive to find you yesterday until it was so late that I was ashamed to knock them up here, and I thought, therefore, you would excuse this early call, as, as, as, I wished to see you very much indeed.'

'You are extremely kind,' said Captain Armine. 'But really I much regret that your lordship should have had all this trouble.'

'Oh! what is trouble under such circ.u.mstances!' replied his lordship. 'I cannot pardon myself for being so stupid as not reaching you yesterday.

I never can excuse myself for the inconvenience you have experienced.'