[II-6] Forgive me, sir, I was bred in the Imperial service, and must smoke a little.

[II-7] Smoke as much as you please; I have got my pipe, too.--See what a beautiful head!

CHAPTER XII.

DISCUSSION.

I will converse with iron-witted fools And unrespective boys--none are for me That look into me with suspicious eyes.

_Richard III._

"How now, Jekyl!" said Lord Etherington, eagerly; "what news from the enemy?--Have you seen him?"

"I have," replied Jekyl.

"And in what humour did you find him?--in none that was very favourable, I dare say, for you have a baffled and perplexed look, that confesses a losing game--I have often warned you how your hang-dog look betrays you at brag--And then, when you would fain brush up your courage, and put a good face on a bad game, your bold looks always remind me of a standard hoisted only half-mast high, and betraying melancholy and dejection, instead of triumph and defiance."

"I am only holding the cards for your lordship at present," answered Jekyl; "and I wish to Heaven there may be no one looking over the hand."

"How do you mean by that?"

"Why, I was beset, on returning through the wood, by an old bore, a Nabob, as they call him, and Touchwood by name."

"I have seen such a quiz about," said Lord Etherington--"What of him?"

"Nothing," answered Jekyl, "except that he seemed to know much more of your affairs than you would wish or are aware of. He smoked the truth of the rencontre betwixt Tyrrel and you, and what is worse--I must needs confess the truth--he contrived to wring out of me a sort of confirmation of his suspicions."

"'Slife! wert thou mad?" said Lord Etherington, turning pale; "His is the very tongue to send the story through the whole country--Hal, you have undone me."

"I hope not," said Jekyl; "I trust in Heaven I have not!--His knowledge is quite general--only that there was some scuffle between you--Do not look so dismayed about it, or I will e'en go back and cut his throat, to secure his secrecy."

"Cursed indiscretion!" answered the Earl--"how could you let him fix on you at all?"

"I cannot tell," said Jekyl--"he has powers of boring beyond ten of the dullest of all possible doctors--stuck like a limpet to a rock--a perfect double of the Old Man of the Sea, who I take to have been the greatest bore on record."

"Could you not have turned him on his back like a turtle, and left him there?" said Lord Etherington.

"And had an ounce of lead in my body for my pains? No--no--we have already had footpad work enough--I promise you the old buck was armed, as if he meant to bing folks on the low toby."[II-8]

"Well--well--But Martigny, or Tyrrel, as you call him--what says he?"

"Why, Tyrrel, or Martigny, as your lordship calls him," answered Jekyl, "will by no means listen to your lordship's proposition. He will not consent that Miss Mowbray's happiness shall be placed in your lordship's keeping; nay, it did not meet his approbation a bit the more, when I hinted at the acknowledgment of the marriage, or the repet.i.tion of the ceremony, attended by an immediate separation, which I thought I might venture to propose."

"And on what grounds does he refuse so reasonable an accommodation?"

said Lord Etherington--"Does he still seek to marry the girl himself?"

"I believe he thinks the circ.u.mstances of the case render that impossible," replied his confidant.

"What? then he would play the dog in the manger--neither eat nor let eat?--He shall find himself mistaken. She has used me like a dog, Jekyl, since I saw you; and, by Jove! I will have her, that I may break her pride, and cut him to the liver with the agony of seeing it."

"Nay, but hold--hold!" said Jekyl; "perhaps I have something to say on his part, that may be a better compromise than all you could have by teasing him. He is willing to purchase what he calls Miss Mowbray's tranquillity, at the expense of his resignation of his claims to your father's honours and estate; and he surprised me very much, my lord, by showing me this list of doc.u.ments, which, I am afraid, makes his success more than probable, if there really are such proofs in existence." Lord Etherington took the paper, and seemed to read with much attention, while Jekyl proceeded,--"He has written to procure these evidences from the person with whom they are deposited."

"We shall see what like they are when they arrive," said Lord Etherington.--"They come by post, I suppose?"

"Yes; and may be immediately expected," answered Jekyl.

"Well--he is my brother on one side of the house, at least," said Lord Etherington; "and I should not much like to have him lagged for forgery, which I suppose will be the end of his bolstering up an unsubstantial plea by fabricated doc.u.ments--I should like to see these same papers he talks of."

"But, my lord," replied Jekyl, "Tyrrel's allegation is, that you _have_ seen them; and that copies, at least, were made out for you, and are in your possession--such is his averment."

"He lies," answered Lord Etherington, "so far as he pretends I know of such papers. I consider the whole story as froth--foam--fudge, or whatever is most unsubstantial. It will prove such when the papers appear, if indeed they ever will appear. The whole is a bully from beginning to end; and I wonder at thee, Jekyl, for being so thirsty after syllabub, that you can swallow such whipt cream as that stuff amounts to. No, no--I know my advantage, and shall use it so as to make all their hearts bleed. As for these papers, I recollect now that my agent talked of copies of some ma.n.u.scripts having been sent him, but the originals were not then forthcoming; and I'll bet the long odds that they never are--mere fabrications--if I thought otherwise, would I not tell you?"

"Certainly, I hope you would, my lord," said Jekyl; "for I see no chance of my being useful to you, unless I have the honour to enjoy your confidence."

"You do--you do, my friend," said Etherington, shaking him by the hand; "and since I must consider your present negotiation as failed, I must devise some other mode of settling with this mad and troublesome fellow."

"No violence, my lord," said Jekyl, once more, and with much emphasis.

"None--none--none, by Heaven!--Why, thou suspicious wretch, must I swear, to quell your scruples?--On the contrary, it shall not be my fault, if we are not on decent terms."

"It would be infinitely to the advantage of both your characters if you could bring that to pa.s.s," answered Jekyl; "and if you are serious in wishing it, I will endeavour to prepare Tyrrel. He comes to the Well or to the ordinary to-day, and it would be highly ridiculous to make a scene."

"True, true; find him out, my dear Jekyl, and persuade him how foolish it will be to bring our family quarrels out before strangers, and for their amus.e.m.e.nt. They shall see the two bears can meet without biting.--Go--go--I will follow you instantly--go, and remember you have my full and exclusive confidence.--Go, half-bred, startling fool!" he continued, the instant Jekyl had left the room, "with just spirits enough to ensure your own ruin, by hurrying you into what you are not up to.--But he has character in the world--is brave--and one of those whose countenance gives a fair face to a doubtful business. He is my creature, too--I have bought and paid for him, and it would be idle extravagance not to make use of him--But as to confidence--no confidence, honest Hal, beyond that which cannot be avoided. If I wanted a confidant, here comes a better than thou by half--Solmes has no scruples--he will always give me money's worth of zeal and secrecy _for_ money."

His lordship's valet at this moment entered the apartment, a grave, civil-looking man, past the middle age, with a sallow complexion, a dark thoughtful eye, slow, and sparing of speech, and sedulously attentive to all the duties of his situation.

"Solmes,"--said Lord Etherington, and then stopped short.

"My lord"--There was a pause; and when Lord Etherington had again said, "Solmes!" and his valet had answered, "Your lordship," there was a second pause; until the Earl, as if recollecting himself, "Oh! I remember what I wished to say--it was about the course of post here. It is not very regular, I believe?"

"Regular enough, my lord, so far as concerns this place--the people in the Aultoun do not get their letters in course."

"And why not, Solmes?" said his lordship.

"The old woman who keeps the little inn there, my lord, is on bad terms with the post-mistress--the one will not send for the letters, and the other will not dispatch them to the village; so, betwixt them, they are sometimes lost or mislaid, or returned to the General Post-office."

"I wish that may not be the case of a packet which I expect in a few days--it should have been here already, or, perhaps, it may arrive in the beginning of the week--it is from that formal a.s.s, Trueman the Quaker, who addresses me by my Christian and family name, Francis Tyrrel. He is like enough to mistake the inn, too, and I should be sorry it fell into Monsieur Martigny's hands--I suppose you know he is in that neighbourhood?--Look after its safety, Solmes--quietly, you understand; because people might put odd constructions, as if I were wanting a letter which was not my own."

"I understand perfectly, my lord," said Solmes, without exhibiting the slightest change in his sallow countenance, though entirely comprehending the nature of the service required.

"And here is a note will pay for postage," said the Earl, putting into his valet's hand a bank-bill of considerable value; "and you may keep the balance for occasional expenses."

This was also fully understood; and Solmes, too politic and cautious even to look intelligence, or acknowledge grat.i.tude, made only a bow of acquiescence, put the note into his pocketbook, and a.s.sured his lordship that his commands should be punctually attended to.