"Excuse me, my lord, my reasons are founded on information which I do not think myself at liberty to repeat: but upon hearing the report from--" The commissioner, in the hurry and confusion of his mind, and in his new situation, totally lost his _tact_, and at this moment was upon the point of again saying _from Captain Bellamy_; but the flash of Lord Oldborough's eye warned him of his danger--he dropped the name.

"I immediately went to sound my son John, and, as far as I can judge, he has not yet any suspicion of the truth."

Lord Oldborough's countenance cleared. The commissioner recovered his presence of mind, for he thought he saw his way before him. "I thought it my duty to let your lordship know the first hint I had of such a nature; for how soon it might be surmised, or what steps might be taken, I must leave it to your lordship to judge--I can only a.s.sure you, that as yet, to the best of my belief, John has not any suspicion: fortunately, he is very slow--and not very bright."

Lord Oldborough stood with compressed lips, seeming to listen, but deep in thought.

"Mr. Commissioner Falconer, let us understand one another well now--as we have done hitherto. If your son, Cornet Falconer, were to marry Maria Hauton, she would no longer be my niece, he would have a portionless, friendless, and, in my opinion, a very silly wife. He is, I think you say, not very bright himself--he would probably remain a cornet the rest of his days--all idea of a.s.sistance being of course out of the question in that case, from me or mine, to him or his."

The awful pause which Lord Oldborough made, and his determined look, gave the commissioner opportunity to reflect much in a few seconds.

"On the contrary," resumed his lordship, "if your son John, my dear sir, show the same desire to comply with my wishes, and to serve my interests, which I have found in the rest of his family, he shall find me willing and able to advance him as well as his brother Cunningham."

"Your lordship's wishes will, I can answer for it, be laws to him, as well as to the rest of his family."

"In one word then--let Cornet Falconer be married elsewhere, within a fortnight, and I prophesy that within a year he shall be a field-officer--within two years, a lieutenant-colonel."

Commissioner Falconer bowed twice--low to the field-officer--lower to the lieutenant-colonel.

"I have long had a match in my eye for John," said the father; "but a fortnight, my gracious lord--that is so very short a time! Your lordship will consider there are delicacies in these cases--no young lady--it is impossible--your lordship must be sensible that it is really impossible, with a young lady of any family."

"I am aware that it is difficult, but not impossible," replied Lord Oldborough, rising deliberately.

The commissioner took his leave, stammering somewhat of "nothing being impossible for a friend," courtier, he should have said.

The commissioner set to work in earnest about the match he had in view for John. Not one, but several fair visions flitted before the eye of his politic mind. The Miss Chattertons--any one of whom would, he knew, come readily within the terms prescribed, but then they had neither fortune nor connexions. A relation of Lady Jane Granville's--excellent connexion, and reasonable fortune; but there all the decorum of regular approaches and time would be necessary: luckily, a certain Miss Petcalf was just arrived from India with a large fortune. The general, her father, was anxious to introduce his daughter to the fashionable world, and to marry her for connexion--fortune no object to him--delicacies he would waive. The commissioner saw--counted--and decided--(there was a brother Petcalf, too, who might do for Georgiana--but for that no hurry)--John was asked by his father if he would like to be a major in a year, and a lieutenant-colonel in two years?

To be sure he would--was he a fool?

Then he must be married in a fortnight.

John did not see how this conclusion followed immediately from the premises, for John was not _quite_ a fool; so he answered "Indeed!" An _indeed_ so unlike Lord Oldborough's, that the commissioner, struck with the contrast, could scarcely maintain the gravity the occasion required, and he could only p.r.o.nounce the words, "General Petcalf has a daughter."

"Ay, Miss Petcalf--ay, he is a general; true--now I see it all: well, I'm their man--I have no objection--But Miss Petcalf!--is not that the Indian girl? Is not there a drop of black blood?--No, no, father," cried John, drawing himself up, "I'll be d--d...."

"Hear me first, my own John," cried his father, much and justly alarmed, for this motion was the precursor of an obstinate fit, which, if John took, perish father, mother, the whole human race, he could not be moved from the settled purpose of his soul. "Hear me, my beloved John--for you are a man of sense," said his unblushing father: "do you think I'd have a drop of black blood for my daughter-in-law, much less let my favourite son--But there's none--it is climate--all climate--as you may see by only looking at Mrs. Governor Carneguy, how she figures every where; and Miss Petcalf is nothing near so dark as Mrs. Carneguy, surely."

"Surely," said John.

"And her father, the general, gives her an Indian fortune to suit an Indian complexion."

"That's good, at any rate," quoth John.

"Yes, my dear major--yes, my lieutenant-colonel--to be sure that's good.

So to secure the good the G.o.ds provide us, go you this minute, dress, and away to your fair Indian! I'll undertake the business with the general."

"But a fortnight, my dear father," said John, looking into the gla.s.s: "how can that be?"

"Look again, and tell me how it can _not_ be? Pray don't put that difficulty into Miss Petcalf's head--into her heart I am sure it would never come."

John yielded his shoulder to the push his father gave him towards the door, but suddenly turning back, "Zounds! father, a fortnight!" he exclaimed: "why there won't be time to buy even boots!"

"And what are even boots," replied his father, "to such a man as you?

Go, go, man; your legs are better than all the boots in the world."

Flattery can find her way to soothe the dullest, coldest ear _alive_.

John looked in the gla.s.s again--dressed--and went to flatter Miss Petcalf. The proposal was graciously accepted, for the commissioner stated, as he was permitted in confidence to the general, that his son was under the special patronage of Lord Oldborough, who would make him a lieutenant-colonel in two years. The general, who looked only for connexion and genteel family, was satisfied. The young lady started at the first mention of an _early day_; but there was an absolute necessity for pressing that point, since the young officer was ordered to go abroad in a fortnight, and could not bear to leave England without completing his union with Miss Petcalf. These reasons, as no other were to be had, proved sufficient with father and daughter.

John was presented with a captain's commission. He, before the end of the fortnight, looked again and again in the gla.s.s to take leave of himself, hung up his flute, and--was married. The bride and bridegroom were presented to Lord and Lady Oldborough, and went immediately abroad.

Thus the forms of homage and the rights of va.s.salage are altered; the compet.i.tion for favour having succeeded to the dependence for protection, the feudal lord of ancient times could ill compete in power with the influence of the modern political patron.

Pending the negotiation of this marriage, and during the whole of this eventful fortnight, Cunningham Falconer had been in the utmost anxiety that can be conceived--not for a brother's interests, but for his own: his own advancement he judged would depend upon the result, and he could not rest day or night till the marriage was happily completed--though, at the same time, he secretly cursed all the loves and marriages, which had drawn Lord Oldborough's attention away from that emba.s.sy on which his own heart was fixed.

Buckhurst, the while, though not admitted behind the scenes, said he was sufficiently amused by what he saw on the stage, enjoyed the comedy of the whole, and pretty well made out for himself the double plot. The confidante, Miss Falconer, played her part to admiration, and prevailed on Miss Hauton to appear on the appointed day in the character of a _reasonable woman_; and accordingly she suffered herself to be led, in fashionable style, to the hymeneal altar by the Marquis of Twickenham.

This denouement satisfied Lord Oldborough.

CHAPTER X.

The day after his niece's marriage was happily effected, Lord Oldborough said to his secretary, "Now, Mr. Cunningham Falconer, I have leisure to turn my mind again to the Tourville papers."

"I was in hopes, my lord," said the secretary (_se composant le visage_), "I was in hopes that this happy alliance, which secures the Duke of Greenwich, would have put your lordship's mind completely at ease, and that you would not have felt it necessary to examine farther into that mystery."

"Weak men never foresee adversity during prosperity, nor prosperity during adversity," replied Lord Oldborough. "His majesty has decided immediately to recall his present envoy at that German court; a new one will be sent, and the choice of that envoy his majesty is graciously pleased to leave to me.--You are a very young man, Mr. Cunningham Falconer, but you have given me such _written_ irrefragable proofs of your ability and information, that I have no scruple in recommending you to his majesty as a person to whom his interests may be intrusted, and the zeal and attachment your family have shown me in actions, not in words only, have convinced me that I cannot choose better for my private affairs. Therefore, if the appointment be agreeable to you, you cannot too soon make what preparations may be necessary."

Cunningham, delighted, made his acknowledgments and thanks for the honour and the favour conferred upon him with all the eloquence in his power.

"I endeavour not to do any thing hastily, Mr. Cunningham Falconer," said his lordship. "I frankly tell you, that I was not at first prepossessed in your favour, nor did I feel inclined to do more for you than that to which I had been induced by peculiar circ.u.mstances. Under this prepossession, I perhaps did not for some time do justice to your talents; but I should be without judgment or without candour, if I did not feel and acknowledge the merit of the performance which I hold in my hand."

The performance was a pamphlet in support of Lord Oldborough's administration, published in Cunningham's name, but the greater part of it was written by his good genius in the garret.

"On _this_," said Lord Oldborough, putting his hand upon it as it lay on the table, "on _this_ found your just t.i.tle, sir, to my esteem and confidence."

Would not the truth have burst from any man of common generosity, honour, or honesty?--Would not a man who had any feeling, conscience, or shame, supposing he could have resolved to keep his secret, at this instant, have been ready to sink into the earth with confusion, under this unmerited praise?--In availing himself falsely of a t.i.tle to esteem and confidence, then fraudulently of another's talents to obtain favour, honour, and emolument, would not a blush, or silence, some awkwardness, or some hesitation, have betrayed him to eyes far less penetrating than those of Lord Oldborough? Yet nothing of this was felt by Cunningham: he made, with a good grace, all the disqualifying speeches of a modest author, repeated his thanks and a.s.surances of grateful attachment, and retired triumphant.--It must be acknowledged that he was fit for a diplomatist. His credentials were forthwith made out in form, and his instructions, public and private, furnished. No expense was spared in fitting him out for his emba.s.sy--his preparations made, his suite appointed, his liveries finished, his carriage at the door, he departed in grand style; and all Commissioner Falconer's friends, of which, at this time, he could not fail to have many, poured in with congratulations on the rapid advancement of his sons, and on all sides exclamations were heard in favour of _friends in power_.

"True--very true, indeed. And see what it is," said Commissioner Falconer, turning to Buckhurst, "see what it is to have a son so perverse, that he will not make use of a good friend when he has one, and who will not accept the promise of an excellent living when he can get it!"

All his friends and acquaintance now joining in one chorus told Buckhurst, in courtly terms, that he was a fool, and Buckhurst began to think they must be right.--"For here," said he to himself, "are my two precious brothers finely provided for, one an envoy, the other a major _in esse_, and a lieutenant-colonel _in posse_--and I, _in esse_ and _in posse_, what?--Nothing but a good fellow--one day with the four in hand club, the next in my chambers, studying the law, by which I shall never make a penny. And there's Miss Caroline Percy, who has declined the honour of my hand, no doubt, merely because I have indulged a little in good company, instead of immuring myself with c.o.ke and Blackstone, Viner and Saunders, Bosanquet and Puller, or chaining myself to a special-pleader's desk, like cousin Alfred, that galley-slave of the law!--No, no, I'll not make a galley-slave of myself. Besides, at my mother's, in all that set, and in the higher circles with Hauton and the Clays, and those people, whenever I appear in the character of a poor barrister, I am scouted--should never have _got on_ at all, but for my being a wit--a wit!--and have not I wit enough to make my fortune? As my father says, What hinders me?--My conscience only. And why should my conscience be so cursedly delicate, so unlike other men's consciences?"

In this humour, Buckhurst was easily persuaded by his father to take orders. The paralytic inc.u.mbent of Chipping-Friars had just at this time another stroke of the palsy, on which Colonel Hauton congratulated the young deacon; and, to keep him in patience while waiting for the third stroke, made him chaplain to his regiment.--The Clays also introduced him to their uncle, Bishop Clay, who had, as they told him, taken a prodigious fancy to him; for he observed, that in carving a partridge, Buckhurst never touched the wing with a knife, but after nicking the joint, tore it off, so as to leave adhering to the bone that muscle obnoxious to all good eaters.--The bishop p.r.o.nounced him to be "a capital carver."

Fortune at this time threw into Buckhurst's hands unasked, unlooked-for, and in the oddest way imaginable, a gift of no small value in itself, and an earnest of her future favours. At some high festival, Buckhurst was invited to dine with the bishop. Now Bishop Clay was a rubicund, full-blown, short-necked prelate, with the fear of apoplexy continually before him, except when dinner was on the table; and at this time a dinner was on the table, rich with every dainty of the season, that earth, air, and sea, could provide. Grace being first said by the chaplain, the bishop sat down "_richly to enjoy_;" but it happened in the first onset, that a morsel too large for his lordship's swallow stuck in his throat. The bishop grew crimson--purple--black in the face; the chaplain started up, and untied his neckcloth. The guests crowded round, one offering water, another advising bread, another calling for a raw egg, another thumping his lordship on the back. Buckhurst Falconer, with more presence of mind than was shown by any other person, saved his patron's life. He blew with force in the bishop's ear, and thus produced such a salutary convulsion in the throat, as relieved his lordship from the danger of suffocation [Footnote: Some learned persons a.s.sert that this could not have happened. We can only aver that it did happen.

The a.s.sertions against the possibility of the fact remind us of the physician in Zadig, who, as the fable tells us, wrote a book to prove that Zadig should have gone blind, though he had actually recovered the use of his eye.--Zadig never read the book.]. The bishop, recovering his breath and vital functions, sat up, restored to life and dinner--he ate again, and drank to Mr. Buckhurst Falconer's health, with thanks for this good service to the church, to which he prophesied the reverend young gentleman would, in good time, prove an honour. And that he might be, in some measure, the means of accomplishing his own prophecy, Bishop Clay did, before he slept, which was immediately after dinner, present Mr. Buckhurst Falconer with a living worth 400_l._ a year; a living which had not fallen into the bishop's gift above half a day, and which, as there were six worthy clergymen in waiting for it, would necessarily have been disposed of the next morning.