I had, however, but little time allowed me to make observations, as the fellow with whom I had interfered, as soon as he perceived that he had only an unarmed man to deal with, appeared determined not to give up his hopes of plunder without a struggle, and, freeing his wrist by a powerful jerk, he aimed a blow at me with the bludgeon, which, had it taken effect, would at once have ended all my anxieties, and brought this veracious history to an abrupt and untimely conclusion. Fortunately, however, for "my gentle public" and their humble servant, I was able, by dodging on one side, to avoid the stroke; and, seeing that matters had now become serious, I closed with him, and, after a short but severe struggle, had the satisfaction of depositing him flat on his back on the green sward. As he fell he dropped his stick, of which I immediately possessed myself, and, planting my foot upon his chest to prevent his rising, I turned to see how the other combatants were getting on. Dame Fortune had not, in this instance, acted up to her usual principle of favouring the brave, for the hero of the umbrella, having struggled gallantly for the preservation of his property and person, had apparently at length been overpowered, and, when I turned towards him, was lying on the ground, while his assailant was endeavouring to rifle his pockets, a matter which was rendered anything but easy of accomplishment by reason of the energetic kicks and struggles of the fallen warrior. It was clear that if I would not have the unfortunate little man robbed before my very eyes, I must go to his assistance. Giving, therefore, my prostrate foe a tap on the head with the stake, by way of a hint to lie still, I advanced to the rescue with uplifted weapon. No sooner did the rascal perceive my approach, than, quitting the fallen man, he sprang up, and, without waiting to be attacked, took to ~232~~his heels and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him, an example which his companion, seeing the coast clear, hastened to emulate.

My first act, as soon as the thieves had departed, was to assist the old gentleman to rise. As soon as he was on his legs again he shook himself, as if to ascertain that he was uninjured, and exclaimed:—

"Umph! they're gone, are they? the scoundrels, high time they should, I think; where's my umbrella? umph! second I've lost this year—just like me".

The voice, the manner, but, above all, the emphatic grunts and the final self-accusing soliloquy, "just like me," could proceed but from one person, my old Helmstone acquaintance, Mr. Frampton; though by what strange chance he should be found wandering by owl-light in a meadow near Cambridge passed my comprehension to conceive. Feeling secure from the alteration which had taken place in me since I had last seen him—an alteration rendered still more complete by my academical costume—that he would be unable to recognise me, I determined to amuse myself a little at his expense before I made myself known to him. In pursuance of this plan I picked up his umbrella and handed it to him, saying in an assumed voice as I did so, "Here is your umbrella, sir".

"Thank ye, young man, thank ye, cost five-and-twenty shillings last Friday week; umph! might have got a cotton one for less than one quarter the money, that would have done just as well to thump thieves with—a fool and his money—just like me, umph!"

"I hope you are not injured by your fall, or by the rough treatment you have been subjected to?" inquired I.

"Umph! injured?" was the reply; "I've got a great bump on the back of my head, and burst all the buttons off my waistcoat—I don't know whether you call that being injured; but I can tell you I got away from the Thugs at Strangleabad without any such injuries: umph!"

"It was fortunate that I happened to come up just when I did," observed I.

"Umph! glad you think so," was the answer; "if that stick had come down upon your skull, as the blackguard meant it to do, you would not have found it quite so fortunate, I've a notion. Umph! all the same, I'm much obliged to you; I might have been robbed and murdered too, if it had not been for you, young man, and if you'll walk home with me to the 'Hoop'—there's a name for an inn!—I'll give you a couple of sovereigns. ~233~~and that's more than you've earned before to-day, I'll be bound—umph!"

"I shall be delighted to see you safe home, sir, but you will excuse my declining your pecuniary offer, though I must plead guilty to the charge of not having earned as much—I believe I might say, in my whole life before."

"Umph! I see—a gentleman, eh? and I to offer him money—just like me—a lord, or a duke, I shouldn't wonder—there are all sorts and sizes of 'em here, they tell me—ask him to dinner. Umph! perhaps you'll do me the honour of dining with me, young man—my lord, I mean—mulligatawny—cat smothered in rice, which they call curry—kibobs, and kickshaws—the cook is not so bad for a white; but you should go to India if you care about eating—that's the place for cookery, sir."

"I shall have much pleasure in accepting your invitation," replied I, "if you will allow me to run away directly after dinner: I am reading for my degree, and time is precious with me just now."

"Umph! so it should be always. I see, now I come to look at you, you are one of the cap-and-gown gentlemen." (Then came an aside—"Cap, indeed! it's a fool's cap would fit one half of 'em best!") "Pray, may I ask what college you belong to, Mr. ——?"

"Legh is my name, sir—Legh of Trinity."

"Umph! Trinity; just the man I wanted to get hold of. My name's Frampton, Mr. Lee: they know me well at the India House, sir. When we've had a bit of dinner, and washed this horrid fog out of our throats with a few glasses of wine, I shall be glad to ask you a question or two. Umph!"

"Any information it may be in my power to afford you," I began——

"That'll do, sir, that'll do," was the reply. "Perhaps you won't be quite so ready when you hear what it is I want." Then, in an undertone—"Tell me a parcel of lies, most likely; I know how these young scamps hang by one another, and think it high fun 'to do the governor,' as they call it. Umph!"

On our arrival at the Hoop we were ushered into one of the best sitting-rooms the inn afforded, where a blazing fire soon effaced all traces of the wet-blanket-like fog in which we had been so lately enveloped. I was shown into a comfortable dressing-room to get ready for dinner, an opportunity of which I availed myself to render my appearance as unlike what it had been in former days as circumstances would allow, before again subjecting myself ~234~~to Mr. Framptqn's scrutiny. For this purpose, I combed my hair back from my face as far as possible, and brushed my whiskers—an acquisition of which I had only lately become possessed—as prominently forward as the growth of the crop permitted. I poked my shirt-collar entirely out of sight, and tied my black neckcloth stiffly up under my chin, and finally buttoned my coat, so as to show off the breadth of my chest and shoulders to the greatest advantage. Thus accoutred, and drawing myself up to my full height, I hastened to rejoin Mr. Frampton. My arrangements seemed thoroughly to have answered their purpose, for he gazed at me without evincing the slightest symptom of recognition. He shook me by the hand, however, and thanked me more cordially than he had yet done for the assistance rendered him, and then rang for dinner. The bill of fare embraced all the Asiatic luxuries he had enumerated, to which, on the strength of having invited a guest, sundry European dishes were added; and with appetites sharpened by our recent adventures, we did full justice to the good cheer that was set before us.



CHAPTER XXX — MR. FRAMPTON'S INTRODUCTION TO A TIGER

"Had I been seized by a hungry tiger, I would have been a breakfast to the beast." —Shakspeare.

"He started Like one who sees a spectre, and exclaimed, 'Blind that I was to know him not till now!'" —Southey.

"Go to, you are a counterfeit knave!"—Shakspeare.

"I HOPE you feel no ill effects from your adventure, sir: you resisted the fellow's attack most spiritedly, and would have beaten him off, I believe, if you had possessed a more serviceable weapon than an umbrella," observed I to Mr. Frampton, as we drew our chairs to the fire after dinner.

"Umph! all right, sir, all right: a little stiff or so across the back, but not so bad as the tiger at Bundleapoor. I'm not as young as I used to be, and there's a difference between young men and old ones. Young men are all whalebone and whipcord, and it's nothing but hopping, skipping, and jumping with them all day long; when ~235~~you're turned of sixty-five, sir, the whalebone gets stiff, the whipcord wears out, the skip and jump take their departure, and the hop becomes an involuntary accompaniment to the rheumatism—confound it! Umph!"

"You have been in India, I presume; I think I heard you refer to some adventure with a tiger," returned I.

"I've been everywhere sir—north, south, east, and west. I ran away from school at twelve years old, because the master chose to believe one of the ushers rather than me, and flogged me for lying when I had spoken the truth. I ran away, sir, and got aboard a ship that was bound for the East Indies, and for five-and-forty years I never saw the white cliffs of Old England; and, when I did return, I might as well have left it alone, for all who knew and cared for me were dead and gone—all dead and gone, dead and gone!" he repeated in a tone of sorrowful earnestness. Then came an aside: "Umph! wonder what I told him that for; something for him to go and make fun of with the other young scapegraces, instead of minding their books:—just like me!"

"You must have seen many strange things, and met with various adventures worthy of note, in the course of your wanderings," remarked I.

"I must have been a fool if I hadn't," was the answer. "P'rhaps you think I was—umph! Young folks always think old ones fools, they say."

"Finish the adage, sir, that old folks know young ones to be so, and then agree with me that it is a saying founded on prejudice, and at variance with truth."

"Umph! strong words, young gentleman, strong words. I will agree with you so far, that there are old fools as well as young ones—old fools, who, in their worldly wisdom, stigmatise the generous impulses and warm affections of youth as folly, who may yet live to regret the feelings they have crushed, and the affections they have alienated, and find out that the things which they deemed folly may prove in the end the truest wisdom." Then came the soliloquy: "There I go again—just like me! something else for him to laugh at; don't think he will, though—seems a good lad—wish t'other boy may be like him—umph!" He paused for a minute, and then observed abruptly, "Umph! about the tiger at Bundleapoor. You call to-night's an adventure, sir: wonder what you'd have said if you'd been there!"

"As I was not, would it be asking too great a favour, if I request you to relate the anecdote?"

"Aye, boy, boy, I see you know how to come round an ~236~~old traveller: set him gossiping about all the fine things he has seen and done in his younger days, and you win his heart at once. Well, fill your glass, sir, and we'll see about it," was the reply.

I obeyed, Mr. Frampton followed my example, and, after sipping his wine, and grunting several times to clear his throat, began the following recital:—

"Umph! ha! let me recollect. When I was a young shaver, having lived in the world some twenty years or so, I was engaged as a sort of supernumerary clerk in the house of Wilson and Brown at Calcutta; and, having no one else who could be so easily spared, they determined to despatch me on a business negotiation to one of the native princes, about eight hundred miles up the country.

"I travelled with a party of the — Dragoons, commanded by a Captain Slingsby, a man about five years older than myself, and as good a fellow as ever lived. Well, somehow or other, he took a great fancy to me, and nothing would do but that I should accompany him in all his sporting expeditions—for I should tell you that he was a thorough sportsman, and, I believe, entertained some wild notion that he should be able to make one of me. One unfortunate morning he came into my tent, and woke me out of a sound sleep into which I had fallen, after being kept awake half the night by the most diabolical howls and screams that ever were heard out of bedlam, expecting every minute to see some of the performers step in to sup, not with, but upon, me.

"'Come, Frampton, wake up, man,' cried Slingsby; 'here's great and glorious news.'

"'What is it?' said I—'have they found another hamper of ale among the baggage?'

"'Ale! nonsense,' was the reply. 'A shikkaree (native hunter) has just come into camp to say that a young bullock was carried off yesterday, and is lying half eaten in the jungle about a mile from this place; so at last, my boy, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to a real live tiger.'

"'Thank ye,' said I, 'you're very kind; but if it's at all inconvenient to you this morning you can put it off: another day will do quite as well for me—I'm not in the least hurry.'

"It was of no use, however; all I got for my pains was a poke in the ribs, and an injunction to lose no time in getting ready.

"Before we had done breakfast the great man of the neighbourhood, Rajah somebody or other, made his ~237~~appearance on his elephant, attended by a train of tawnies, who were to undertake the agreeable duty of beating. Not being considered fit to take care of myself—a melancholy fact of which I was only too conscious—it was decreed that Slingsby and I should occupy the same howdah. Accordingly, at the time appointed, we mounted our elephant; and having a formidable array of guns handed up to us, we started.

"As my companion, and, indeed, every one else concerned in the matter, evidently considered it completely as a party of pleasure, and seemed prepared to enjoy themselves to the utmost, I endeavoured to persuade myself that I did so too; and, consoled by the reflection that if the tiger had positively eaten half a bullock yesterday afternoon, it never could be worth his while to scale our elephant, and run the risk of being shot, for the sake of devouring me, I felt rather bold than otherwise. After proceeding for some distance through the jungle, and rousing, as it seemed to me, every beast that had come out of Noah's Ark, except a tiger, our elephant, who had hitherto conducted himself in a very quiet and gentlemanly manner, suddenly raised his trunk and trumpeted several times—a sure sign, as the mahout informed us, that a tiger was somewhere close at hand.

"'Now then, Frampton,' cried my companion, cocking his double-barrel, 'look out!'

"'For squalls,' returned I, finishing the sentence for him.—'Pray, is there any particular part they like to be shot in? whereabouts shall I aim?'

"'Wherever you can,' replied Slingsby; 'be ready—there he is, by Jupiter!' and, as he spoke, the long grass about a hundred yards in front of us was gently agitated, and I caught a glimpse of what appeared a yellow and black streak, moving swiftly away in an opposite direction. —'Tally ho!' shouted Slingsby, saluting the tiger with both barrels. An angry roar proved that the shots had taken effect, and in another moment a large tiger, lashing his sides with his tail and his eyes glaring with rage, came bounding towards us.

"'Now what's to be done?' exclaimed I—'if you had but left him alone, he was going away as quietly as possible.'

"Slingsby's only reply was a smile, and seizing another gun, he fired again. On receiving this shot the tiger stopped for a moment, and then, with a tremendous bound, sprang towards us, alighting at the foot of a small tree not a yard from the elephant's head.

~238~~"'That last shot crippled him,' said my companion, 'or we should have had the pleasure of his nearer acquaintance—now for the coup de grace—fire away!' and as he spoke he leaned forward to take a deliberate aim, when suddenly the front of the howdah gave way, and to my horror Slingsby was precipitated over the elephant's head, into, as it seemed to me, the very jaws of the tiger. A fierce growl and a suppressed cry of agony proved that the monster had seized his prey; and I had completely given up my friend for lost, when the elephant, although greatly alarmed, being urged on by the mahout, took a step forward, and, twisting his trunk round the top of the young tree, bent it down across the loins of the tiger, thus forcing the tortured animal to quit his hold, and affording Slingsby an opportunity of crawling beyond the reach of its teeth and claws. Forgetting my own fears in the imminence of my friend's danger, I only waited till I could get a shot at the tiger without running the risk of hurting Slingsby, and then fired both barrels at his head, and was lucky enough to wound it mortally. The other sportsmen coming up at the moment, the brute received its quietus, but poor Slingsby's arm was broken where the tiger had seized it with its teeth, and his shoulders and chest were severely lacerated by its claws, nor did he entirely recover the shock for many months.{1} And this was my first introduction to a royal tiger, sir. I saw many of 'em afterwards, during the time I spent in India, but I can't say I ever had much liking for their society—umph!"

This anecdote brought others in its train—minutes flew by apace, the wine grew low in the decanters, and it became apparent to me that if I would not lose the whole evening, and go home with my brains muddled beyond all possibility of reading, I must take my departure. Accordingly, pulling out my watch, I reminded Mr. Frampton of my previous stipulation to be allowed to run away as soon as dinner was concluded, adding that I had already stayed longer than was altogether prudent. The reply to this announcement was, "Umph! sit still, sir, sit still; I'm going to ring for another bottle of port".

1 The main facts of the foregoing anecdote are taken from Capt. Mundy's very interesting Pen and Pencil Sketches.

Finding, however, that I was determined, he gave up the point, adding: "Umph! well, if you must go, you must, I suppose—though you might refuse a worse offer;—but, if you really are anxious about your studies and ~239~~wish to distinguish yourself, I won't be the man to hinder you—it's few enough of 'em are like you here, I expect"; then, sotto voce, "wish t'other young monkey might be". "You hinted before dinner at some information I might be able to give you?" said I interrogatively.

"Umph! did I?—aye, so I did—you see, Mr. Lee, there's a young fellow at Trinity, about your age I should fancy, whom I used to know as a boy,—and—he was a very good boy—and—and—his mother's a widow; poor thing—a very nice boy, I may say, he was—and as I feel a sort of interest about him I thought that you might, perhaps, give one an idea of how he's going on—just a notion—you understand—umph!"

"Exactly, sir," returned I, "and what may be the name of your friend?"

"Frank Fairlegh," was the answer.

"You could not have applied to a better person," replied I. "Frank Fairlegh!—why, he was one of my most intimate friends."

"Was—umph!"

"Why, yes, it's more was than is, certainly—for since I've been reading hard, it's a positive fact that I've scarcely seen his face."

"That looks as if he wasn't over fond of reading, then, eh?—umph!"

"You may put that interpretation upon it, certainly," replied I, "but mind, I don't say it's the true one. I consider it would not be right in me to tell tales out of school; besides there's nothing to tell—everybody knows Frank Fairlegh's a good fellow—ask Lawless—ask Curtis."

"Umph! Lawless? what? that wild young scamp who goes tearing about the country in a tandem, as if a gig with one horse wasn't dangerous enough, without putting on a second to make the thing positively terrific? he must be badly off for something to do, if he can find no better amusement than trying how nearly he can break a fool's neck, without doing it quite;—umph! Curtis—why, that's the name of the young gentleman—very gentle—who, the landlord tells me, has just been rusticated for insulting Dr. Doublechin, and fastening a muzzle and chain on one of the men they call 'bull-dogs,' saying, forsooth, that it wasn't safe to let such ferocious animals go about loose—nice acquaintance Mr. Frank Fairlegh seems to choose, and you know the quotation, 'Noscitur a sociis'."

"Oh," replied I, "but he has others; I have seen him in company with Mr. Wilford."

~240~~"Wilford? the noted duellist, that scoundrel who has lately shot the son of Sir John Oaklands, as fine a young man as ever I set eyes upon?—for I have often seen him when I was living at Helmstone; if I thought, sir, that Fairlegh was a friend of that man—I'd—I'd—well, sir," he exclaimed, seeing my eyes fixed upon him with a degree of interest I could not conceal, "it's nothing to you, I suppose, what I may intend to do by Mr. Frank Fairlegh! I may be his grandfather for anything you can tell to the contrary; and I may choose to cut him off with a shilling, I imagine, without its affecting you in any way—umph?"

"Scarcely so, Mr. Frampton," replied I, turning away to hide an irrepressible smile, "if it is in consequence of what I have told you that you are angry with poor Frank."

"Angry, sir, angry"—was the answer—"I'm never angry—there's nothing worth being angry about in this world. Do you take snuff, sir? I've some that came from—Umph! eh!" he continued, fumbling in all his pockets—"hope I haven't lost my box—given me by the Begum of Cuddleakee—splendid woman—only complexion too strong of the tawny—Umph! left it in the other room, I suppose—back in a moment, sir—Umph! umph!" and, suiting the action to the word, he went out, slamming the door behind him.

As the reader may suppose, I was equally surprised and pleased to find that my old friend not only remembered our former intimacy, but felt so warm an interest in my welfare as to have put himself quite in a rage on hearing of my supposed delinquencies. Although it had been the means of eliciting such strong indications of his continued regard for me, I felt half sorry for the deception I had practised upon him—the only thing that could be done now, however, was to make myself known to him without delay, and his absence from the room enabled me to put in practice a plan for doing so which I had had in my mind all along. Accordingly, going up to the chimney-glass I shook my hair forward, so that it fell in waving curls about my face and forehead—took the stiffener out of my neckcloth and, knotting the latter closely round my throat, turned down my shirt-collar, so as to resemble as nearly as possible the Byron-tie of my boyhood—then unbuttoning and throwing open my coat I resumed my seat, arranging the candles so as to throw the light full upon my face as I did so. I had scarcely completed my arrangements when I heard Mr. Frampton's footstep in ~241~~the passage, and in another moment he entered the room. "All right, Mr. Lee, all right, sir; I found the box in my other coat-pocket; I was afraid the thieves might have forestalled me; but—Umph!—eh!—why?—who?" Catching sight of me as he spoke, he stopped short, and, shading his eyes with his hand, gazed earnestly at me, with a look half-bewildered, half-incredulous. Taking advantage of his silence I inquired in my natural tone and manner whether he had seen Dr. Mildman lately.

"Umph! eh! Dr. Mildman?" was the reply—"why it can't be—and yet it is—the boy Frank Fairlegh himself! Oh! you young villain!" and completely overcome by the sudden and unexpected nature of the surprise he sank back into a chair, looking the picture of astonishment.

Springing to his side, and pressing his hand warmly between my own, I exclaimed, "Forgive me for the trick I have played you, sir. I knew you the moment I heard your voice, when I was helping you up to-night, and, finding you did not recognise me, I could not resist the temptation of preserving my incognito a little longer, and introducing myself as a stranger."

"Oh! you young scapegrace," was the rejoinder, "if ever I forgive you, I'll—umph!—that I will"—then changing his tone to one of much feeling, he continued, "So you hadn't forgotten the old man then, Frank? good boy, good boy".

I had seated myself on a stool at his feet, and as he spoke he patted my head with his hand, as if I had been a favourite dog.

"And all the things you said against yourself were so many lies, I suppose? Umph! you are no friend to the homicide Wilford?"

"True to the ear, but false to the sense, sir," replied I. "Harry Oaklands is the dearest friend I have on earth; we love each other as brothers—between the man whose hand was so lately raised to shed that brother's blood, and myself, there can be little friendship—if I do not positively hate him, it is only because I would not willingly hate any one. Lawless was an old fellow-pupil of mine, and, though he has many follies about him, is at bottom more kind-hearted and well-disposed than people give him credit for; we still continue friends, therefore, but, our habits and pursuits being essentially different, I see very little of him—with Curtis I never exchanged half a dozen words in my life."

"Umph! I understand, I understand; and how is Harry Oaklands? better again, eh?"

~242~~The reply to this query led to my being obliged to give Mr. Frampton a succinct account of the duel, and it was not till I explained my intention of trying for honours, and made him comprehend the necessity of my being fully prepared for the ensuing examination, that he would hear of my departure; and, when at last he did allow me to go, he insisted on accompanying me to the gate of Trinity, and made me promise to let him see me as often as I was able during his stay in Cambridge, where, he informed me, he proposed remaining till after the degrees wore conferred.



CHAPTER XXXI — HOW I RISE A DEGREE, AND MR. FRAMPTON GETS ELEVATED IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

"This is as strange a thing as e'er I looked on."—The Tempest.

"These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits."—King Henry VI.

"And liquor, likewise, will I give to thee, And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood."—King Henry V.

THE week passed away like a dream, and with a beating heart and throbbing pulse I went through the various examinations, and engaged with my competitors in the struggle for honours. Anxious in the highest degree as to the result of my labours, I scarcely ate, drank, or slept, and, had the necessity for exertion been protracted much longer, my mind could not have borne the continued strain, and I should probably have had a brain fever. It was the eventful Friday morning on which the list was to come out, and in the course of an hour or two my fate would be known. Utterly worn out by a night which anxiety had rendered sleepless, I had hastily swallowed a cup of tea, and, turning away from the untasted eatables, flung myself, wrapped in a dressing-gown, on the sofa. I had not, however, lain there above a quarter of an hour, when a tap was heard at the door, and Mr. Frampton made his appearance, attired as usual in the well-remembered blue coat, with brass buttons, drab shorts, and gaiters, with the broad-brimmed hat, lined with green, fixed sturdily on his head, as if it was not made to take off at any time.

~243~~"Umph! found my way up, you see! Fellow you call the gyp wanted to make me believe you were out—thought I looked too like a governor to be let in, I suppose; but it wouldn't do, sir; old birds are not to be caught with chaff; and he spoke with an air of such intense honesty that I felt sure he was lying, and told him so.—Don't get up, boy, don't get up; you look as jaded as a hunted antelope. Why, you've never touched your breakfast; you'll kill yourself if you go on at this rate."

"It will not last much longer, sir," said I; "in about another hour or so my fate will be known. The list comes out this morning. Some of my friends were to call for me, and we were to make a party to go down to the Senate House together, for there is sure to be a crowd; but I shall let them go without me, for I'm in such a state of nervous anxiety that I feel fit for nothing."

"Umph! I'll go with them, if they've no objection," returned Mr. Frampton. "If I should happen to get knocked over in the scuffle, I shall want somebody to pick me up again. I shall like to see how near the tail of the list they stick your name, Frank—umph!"

At this moment the door was flung open, and Lawless, Archer, and one or two more men of my acquaintance came tumbling over one another into the room, laughing vociferously at some unknown jest. Owing to the shape of the apartment, the place where Mr. Frampton had seated himself was not easily to be seen as you entered, consequently none of them observed him.

"Fairlegh, old boy!" began Archer—

"Eh! here's such a tremendous go!" broke in Lawless. "Where's the smelling-bottle? Archer swears he has just seen the ghost of Noah's great-grandfather, as he appeared when dressed in his Sunday clothes!"

"'Pon my word it's true, and what will you lay it's a lie?" sang Archer. "Oh! if you had but seen him, Fairlegh; he looked like—hang me if I know anything ugly enough to compare him to."

"Was he at all like me, sir?—umph!" inquired Mr. Frampton in his gruffest tone, putting on the broad-brimmed hat, and rising slowly from his seat as he spoke.

"The very apparition itself, by Jingo!" exclaimed Archer, starting back in alarm, half real, half affected, thereby nearly overturning Lawless, who was just behind him.

~244~~"Hold hard there, young fellow; where are you jibbing to? You'll smash my panels in a minute, if you don't look out—eh?—why surely it's the old boy from Helmstone," continued Lawless aside; "Mr. Frampton—sir, your most obedient."

"Same to you, sir," was the reply; "glad to see your spirits don't seem likely to fail you, Mr. Lawless—laughing at me, all of 'em, impudent young dogs—what's t'other one's name, Frank? the one that took me for a ghost—umph!"

"Allow me to introduce you—Mr. Frampton, Mr. Archer, Mr. Green, Mr. Lacy, Mr. Richards."

The individuals named delivered themselves of a series of nods and jerks as I pronounced their various patronymics, and Mr. Frampton took off his hat, and made a polite bow to each man separately; then turning to Archer, he said:—

"Pray, sir, may I inquire when and how you became so intimate with Noah's great-grandfather as to mistake me for him?—umph!"

"Well, sir," said Archer, who was evidently taken somewhat aback by this direct appeal, "it is an affair—that is, a circumstance—what I mean to say is—the thing, as you must see, was completely—in fact it was quite by accident, and promiscuously, so to speak, that I mistook you for the respectable antediluvian—I should say, for his ghost."

"Umph! don't think I look much like a ghost, either. Not that there are such things in reality; all humbug, sir. A man goes and eats beef and pudding enough for two, has the night-mare, fancies next morning he has seen a ghost, and the first fool he tells it to believes him. Well, Mr. Lawless, not made a ghost of yourself by breaking your neck out of that Infernal Machine of yours yet. Get his ex-majesty Louis Philippe to go out for a ride with you in that, and his life would be in greater danger than all the Fieschis in France could ever put it in. Umph!"

"The horses are in first-rate condition," returned Lawless, "enough to pull a fellow's arms off till they've done about ten miles; that takes the steel out of them a bit, and then a child may guide them. Happy to take you a drive, Mr. Frampton, any time that suits you—eh?"

"Thank ye, sir, when that time comes I'll let you know; but I hope to live a few years longer yet, and therefore you'll excuse my not accepting your kind offer. Besides, if Mr. Archer was to see the ghost of Noah's great-grand-father ~245~~in a tandem, he'd never get over it." Then came the aside: "Umph! had him there, the young jackanapes".

"Well, Fairlegh, are you coming with us?" asked Lacy; "the list must be out by this time."

"No; 'pon my word I can't," replied I. "I'm good for nothing this morning."

"Serve you right, too," said Lawless, "for refusing the second bowl of punch last night. I told you no good would come of it, eh?"

"Positively we ought to be going," interposed Richards; "we'll bring you some news presently, Fairlegh, that will set you all right again in no time."

"I only wish you may prove a true prophet," replied I. "Umph! if you'll allow me, I'll accompany you, gentlemen," said Mr. Frampton; "make one of your party, umph!"

Several of those thus appealed to exchanged glances of horror, and at last Archer, who was rather an exclusive, and particularly sensitive to ridicule, began:—

"Why, really, sir, you must excuse—"

"Umph! excuse? no excuses are required, sir; when you've lived as long as I have, you'll learn not to care in what company you sail, so as it's honest company. Noah's great-grandfather found out the truth of that, sir, when he had to be hail-fellow-well-met with tiger-cats and hippopotamuses in the ark—hippopotami, I suppose you classical men call it—though, now I come to think of it, he never was there at all. But you will let an old man go with you, there's good boys," continued Mr. Frampton in a tone of entreaty; "not one of you feels more interest in Frank Fairlegh's success than I do."

"Come along, governor," exclaimed Lawless, taking him by the arm, "you and I will go together, and if anybody gets in your way, down he goes if he were as big as Goliath of Gath. You shall see the list as soon as any one of them, for you're a trump—a regular brick!"

"With a very odd tile on the top of it," whispered Archer, pointing to the broad brim.

"Now, then," continued Lawless, "fall in there. Follow the governor. To the right about face! March!" So saying, he flung open the door, and arm-in-arm with Mr. Frampton hurried down the stairs, followed by the others in double-quick time. When they were all gone I made an effort to rouse myself from the state of lassitude and depression into which I had fallen, and ~246~~succeeded so far as to recover sufficient energy to attempt the labour of dressing, though my hands trembled to such a degree that I could scarcely accomplish it, and was forced to postpone the operation of shaving to some more favourable opportunity.

Having made my outer-man respectable, I re-entered the sitting-room, and waited with impatience for the return of my friends. Oh! the horrors of suspense! that tooth-ache of the mind, in which each moment of anxiety r stretched on the rack of expectation, appears to the overwrought senses an eternity of gnawing anguish!—of all the mental tortures with which I am acquainted, defend me from suspense!

I had worked myself up into a thorough fever, and was becoming so excited that I was on the point of rushing out to learn the worst at once, when sundry shouts, mingled with peals of laughter, reached my ear—sounds which assured me that news was at hand. And now, with the inconsistency of human nature, I trembled at, and would willingly have delayed, my friends' arrival, lest it might bring me the certainty of failure, to which even the doubt and suspense I had been so lately chafing at appeared preferable. The sounds grew louder and louder—they were approaching. Oh! how my heart beat! in another moment they would be here. Sinking into a chair, for my knees trembled so that I could scarcely stand, I remained with my eyes fixed upon the door in a state of breathless anxiety. More shouting! surely that was a cheer—

"Hurrah! hurrah! out of the way there! room for the governor!"—a rush of many feet up the stairs—more, cheering—the door is thrown open, and a party of from fifteen to twenty undergraduates come pouring in, with Mr. Frampton in the midst of them, carried in triumph on the shoulders of Lawless and another man, and waving a list in one hand, and the broad-brimmed hat in the other.



"Bravo, Fairlegh! all right, old fellow! never say die! hurrah!" exclaimed half a score voices, all at once, while both my hands were seized and nearly shaken off, and I was almost annihilated by congratulatory slaps on the back from my zealous and excited friends.

"Well," exclaimed I, as soon as I could make myself audible amidst the clamour, "I suppose by your congratulations I'm not plucked, but how high do I stand?" "Silence there!" shouted Lawless. "Order! order! hear the governor; he's got the list. Fire away, sir."

~247~~Thus appealed to, Mr. Frampton, who was still mounted on the shoulders of his supporters, having cleared his throat and grunted proudly, with an air of majesty read as follows:—

"Kushbrooke, Senior Wrangler—Crosby, second—Barham, third—Fairlegh, fourth!"

"Nonsense," exclaimed I, springing up, "the thing's impossible!"

"What an unbelieving Jew it is," said Archer; "hand him the list, and let him read it himself. Seeing is believing, they say."

Yes, there it was, beyond all possibility of doubt; with my own eyes did I behold it. "Fairlegh, fourth Wrangler!" Why, even in my wildest moments of hope my imagination had never taken so high a flight. Fourth Wrangler! oh! it was too delightful to be real. So overcome was I by this unexpected stroke of good fortune, that for a minute or two I was scarcely conscious of what was going on around me, and returned rambling and incoherent answers to the congratulations which were showered upon me. The first thing that roused my attention was a shout from Lawless, demanding a hearing, for that "the governor," as he persisted in calling Mr. Frampton, was going to make a speech. The cry was immediately taken up by the others, who for some moments defeated their own purpose by calling vociferously for "silence for the governor's speech!" Having at length, from sheer want of breath, obtained the required boon, Mr. Frampton, waving his hand with a dignified gesture, began as follows:—

"Umph! on this happy occasion, gentlemen—set of noisy young scamps!—on this happy occasion, I say"—(shouts of encore! bravo! etc.)—"what I was going to say was—umph!" (a cry of "You have said it," from a man near the door, who thought he could not be seen, but was). "Much obliged to you, sir, for your observation," continued Mr. Frampton, fixing his glance unmistakably on the Detected One, "but I have not said it, nor does it seem very likely I ever shall say it, if you continue to interrupt me with your wretched attempts at wit." (Cries of "Hear! hear! don't interrupt the governor! Shame! shame!" and an aside from Mr. Frampton, "Had him there, umph!" during all of which the detected individual was striving to open the door, which several men, who had perceived his design, held firmly against him.) "What I was going to say," resumed the speaker, "when that gentleman who is trying to leave the room ~248~~interrupted me" (more cries of "Shame!"), "was, that I beg, in the name of my friend, Frank Fairlegh, to invite you all to a champagne breakfast in his rooms to-morrow," (tremendous cheering, and a cry of "Bravo, governor! you are a brick!" from Lawless), "and in my own name to thank you all, except the gentleman near the door, who has not yet, I see, had the grace to leave the room, for the patience with which you've listened to me," (laughter, and cries of "It was a shame to interrupt him," at which the Detected One, with a frantic gesture, gives up the door, and, turning very pale, glances insanely towards the window), "and for the very flattering attentions which you have all of you generally, and Mr. Archer in particular, done me the honour of paying me."

A perfect tornado of cheers and laughter followed Mr. Frampton's speech, after which I thanked them all for the kind interest they had expressed in my success, and begged to second Mr. Frampton's invitation for the following day. This matter being satisfactorily arranged, certain of the party laid violent hands on the Detected One, who was a very shy freshman of the name of Pilkington, and, despite his struggles, made him go down on his knees and apologise in set phrase to Mr. Frampton for his late unjustifiable conduct; whereupon that gentleman, who enjoyed the joke, and entered into it with as much zest as the veriest pickle among them, sternly, and with many grunts, rebuked and then pardoned him.

The champagne breakfast on the following morning who shall describe! What pen, albeit accustomed to the highest nights imaginable, may venture to depict the humours of that memorable entertainment! How, when the company were assembled, it was discovered Mr. Pilkington was missing, and a party, headed by Lawless, proceeded to his rooms, which were on the same staircase, and brought him down, vi et armis, in a state of mind bordering on distraction, picturesquely attired in a dressing-gown, slippers, and smoking-cap, of a decidedly oriental character; and how, when they had forced him into a seat of honour at Mr. Frampton's right hand, that gentleman discovered in him a striking likeness to his particular friend the Rajah of Bundleoragbag, which name, being instantly adopted by the company, he was invariably addressed by ever after. How, as the champagne circulated, the various members of the party began to come out strong, according to their several idiosyncrasies, every man who had a peculiarity exhibiting it for the benefit of the others; while those who had not ~249~~were even more amusing, either from their aping the manners of somebody else, or from the sheer absurdity of uttering insipid commonplaces in such an atmosphere of fun and frolic. How, later in the day, after healths had been drunk, and thanks returned, till every one, save Pilkington, was hoarse with shouting, that individual was partly coaxed, partly coerced into attempting to sing the only song he knew, which proved to be, "We met"; in which performance, after making four false starts, and causing a great many more meetings to take place than the author of the song ever contemplated, he contrived, in a voice suggestive of a sudden attack of cholera, to get as far as the words, "For thou art the cause of this anguish, my mother," when he was interrupted by such a chorus of laughter as completely annihilated him for the rest of the day.



How Mr. Frampton, without giving the slightest warning of his intention, or there being anything in the subject of the conversation generally to lead thereunto, began to relate his adventure with the tiger of Bundleapoor; while Lawless favoured the company with a full, true and particular account of a surprising run with the royal stag-hounds; and Archer, who had grown sentimental, with tears in his eyes, entered into a minute detail of certain passages in a romantic attachment he had conceived for a youthful female branch of the aristocracy, whom he designated as Lady Barbara B.; and how these three gentlemen continued their various recitals all at one and the same time, edifying the company by some such composite style of dialogue as the following:—

"So, sir, Slingsby roused me by a kick in the ribs, saying —umph!"—"Fairest, loveliest of thy sex,"—"Shove on your boots and buckskins, stick a cigar in your mouth, and clap your leg over,"—"An elephant half as high again as this room; take a couple of double-barrelled rifles, and"—"Slap at everything that comes in your way; no craning, ram in the persuaders, and if you do get a purl"—"Look upon it as the purest, brightest gem in your noble father's coronet, for true affection"—"Flung him clean into the tiger's jaws, sir, and the beast"—"Drew her handkerchief across her eyes, and said, in a voice which quivered with emotion, 'Love between two young creatures, situated as we are, would be utter madness, Charles'. To which I replied, 'Barbara, my own sweet girl,'"—"Mind your eye, and look out for squalls, for that's a rasper, and no mistake".

How all this took place, together with much more notable merriment, not many degrees removed from "tipsy mirth and jollity," we will leave to the fertile imagination of the reader to depict. Suffice it to say that, ere we broke up, Mr. Frampton had distinctly pledged himself to ride one of Lawless's horses the next hunting-day, and to accompany Archer on a three weeks' visit to the country seat of Lady Barbara B.'s noble father, with some ulterior views on his own account in regard to a younger sister.~250~~



FRANK FAIRLEGH

Part II.



CHAPTER XXXII — CATCHING SIGHT OF AN OLD FLAME

~250~~

"Give me thy hand... I'm glad to find thee here." The Lover's Melancholy.

"Half light, half shade, She stood, a sight to make an old man young." The Gardener's Daughter.

UTTERLY worn out, both in mind and body, by hard reading and confinement, I determined to return to Heathfield forthwith, with "all my blushing honours thick upon me," and enjoy a few weeks' idleness before again engaging in any active course of study which might be necessary to fit me for my future profession. When the post came in, however, I received a couple of letters which rather militated against my intention of an immediate return home. A note from Harry Oaklands informed me, that having some weeks ago been ordered to a milder air, he and Sir John had chosen Clifton, their decision being influenced by the fact of an old and valued friend of Sir John's residing there. He begged me to let him hear all the Cambridge news, and hoped I should join him as soon as Mrs. Fairlegh and my sister would consent to part with me. For himself, he said, he felt somewhat stronger, but still suffered much from the wound in his side. The second letter was from my mother, saying she had received an invitation from an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who resided in London, and, as she thought change of scene would do Fanny good, she had accepted it. She had been there already one week, and proposed returning at the end of the next, which she hoped would be soon enough to welcome me after the conclusion of my labours at the university.

Unable to make up my mind whether to remain where I was for a week longer, or to return and await my mother's arrival at the cottage, I threw on my cap and gown and ~251~~ strolled out, the fresh air appearing quite a luxury to me after having been shut up so long. As I passed through the street where old Maurice the pastry-cook lived I thought I would call and learn how Lizzie was going on, as I knew Harry would be anxious for information on this point. On entering the shop I was most cordially received by the young lady herself, who had by this time quite recovered her good looks, and on the present occasion appeared unusually gay and animated, which was soon accounted for when her father, drawing me aside, informed me that she was going to be married to a highly respectable young baker, who had long ago fallen a victim to her charms, and on whom she had of late deigned to take pity; the severe lesson she had been taught having induced her to overlook his intense respectability, high moral excellence, and round, good-natured face—three strong disqualifications which had stood dreadfully in his way when striving to render himself agreeable to the romantic Fornarina. I was answering their inquiries after Oaklands, of whom they spoke in terms of the deepest gratitude, when a young fellow, wrapped up in a rough pea-jacket, bustled into the shop, and, without perceiving me, accosted Lizzie as follows:—

"Pray, young lady, can you inform me—what glorious buns!—where Mr.—that is to say, which of these funny old edifices may happen to be Trinity College?"

On receiving the desired information, he continued, "Much obliged. I really must trouble you for another bun. Made by your own fair hands, I presume? You see, I'm quite a stranger to this quaint old town of yours, where half the houses look like churches, and all the men like the parsons and clerks belonging to them, taking a walk in their canonicals, with four-cornered hats on their heads—abortive attempts to square the circle, I conclude. Wonderful things, very. But when I get to Trinity, how am I to find the man I want, one Mr. Frank Fairlegh?" Here I took the liberty of interrupting the speaker, whom I had long since recognised as Coleman—though what could have brought him to Cambridge I was at a loss to conceive—by coming behind him, and saying, in a gruff voice, "I am sorry you keep such low company, young man".

"And pray who may you be that are so ready with your 'young man,' I should like to know? I shall have to teach you something your tutors and dons seem to have forgotten, and that is, manners, fellow!" exclaimed Freddy, turning round with a face as red as a turkey-cock, ~252~~ and not recognising me at first in my cap and gown; then looking at me steadily for a moment, he continued, "The very man himself, by all that's comical! This is the way you read for your degree, is it?" Then with a glance towards Lizzie Maurice, he sang:—

"'My only books Were woman's looks, And folly all they taught me'.

It's a Master of Hearts you're striving to become, I suppose?"

"Nonsense," replied I quickly, for I saw poor Lizzie coloured and looked uncomfortable; "we don't allow bad puns to be made at Cambridge."

"Then, faith, unless the genius loci inspires me with good ones," returned Freddy, as we left the shop together, "the sooner I'm out of it the better."

Ten minutes' conversation served to inform me that Freddy, having been down to Bury St. Edmund's on business, had stopped at Cambridge on his way back in order to find me out, and, if possible, induce me to accompany him home to Hillingford, and spend a few days there. This arrangement suited my case exactly, as it nearly filled up the space of time which must elapse before my mother's return, and I gladly accepted his invitation. In turn, I pressed him to remain a day or two with me, and see the lions of Cambridge; but it appeared that the mission on which he had been despatched was an important one, and would not brook delay; he must therefore return at once to report progress. As he could not stay with me, the most advisable thing seemed to be that I should go back with him. Returning, therefore, to my rooms, I set Freddy to work on some bread and cheese and ale, whilst I hastened to cram a portmanteau and carpet-bag with various indispensables. I then ran to the Hoop, and took an affectionate farewell of Mr. Frampton, making him promise to pay me a visit at Heathfield Cottage; and, in less than two hours from the time Coleman had first made his appearance, we were seated together on the roof of a stage-coach, and bowling along merrily towards Hillingford.

During our drive Coleman recounted to me his adventures in search of Cumberland on the day preceding the duel, and gave me a more minute description than I had yet heard of the disreputable nature of that individual's pursuits. From what Coleman could learn, Cumberland, after having lost at the gaming-table large sums of ~253~~ money, of which he had by some means contrived to obtain possession, had become connected with a gambling-house not far from St. James's Street, and was supposed to be one of its proprietors. Just before Coleman left town, there had been an expose of certain shameful proceedings which had taken place at this house—windows had been broken, and the police obliged to make a forcible entrance; but Cumberland had as yet contrived to keep his name from appearing, although it was known that he was concerned in the affair, and would be obliged to keep out of the way at present. "We shall take the old lady by surprise, I've a notion," said Freddy, as the coach set us down within ten minutes' walk of Elm Lodge. "I did not think I should have got the Bury St. Edmund's job over till to-morrow, and wrote her word not to expect me till she saw me; but she'll be glad enough to have somebody to enliven her, for the governor's in town, and Lucy Markham is gone to stay with one of her married sisters."

"I hope I shall not cause any inconvenience, or annoy your mother."

"Annoy my grandmother! and she was dead before I was born!" exclaimed Freddy disdainfully. "Why, bless your sensitive heart, nothing that I can do annoys my mother: if I chose to bring home a mad bull in fits, or half a dozen young elephants with the hooping-cough, she would not be annoyed." Thus assured, nothing remained for me but silent acquiescence, and in a few minutes we reached the house.

"Where's your mistress?" inquired Freddy of the man-servant who showed us into the drawing-room.

"Upstairs, sir, I believe; I'll send to let her know that you are arrived."

"Do so," replied Coleman, making a vigorous attack upon the fire.

"Why, Freddy, I thought you said your cousin was away from home?" inquired I.

"So she is; and what's more, she won't be back for a fortnight," was the answer.

"Here's a young lady's bonnet, however," said I.

"Nonsense," replied he; "it must be one of my mother's."

"Does Mrs. Coleman wear such spicy affairs as this?" said I, holding up for his inspection a most piquant little velvet bonnet lined with pink.

"By Jove, no!" was the reply; "a mysterious young lady! I say, Frank, this is interesting."

As he spoke the door flew open, and Mrs. Coleman ~254~~ bustled in, in a great state of maternal affection, and fuss, and confusion, and agitation.

"Why, Freddy, my dear boy, I'm delighted to see you, only I wish you hadn't come just now;—and you too, Mr. Fairlegh—and such a small loin of mutton for dinner; but I'm so glad to see you—looking like a ghost, so pale and thin," she added, shaking me warmly by the hand; "but what I am to do about it, or to say to him when he comes back—only I'm not a prophet to guess things before they happen—and if I did I should always be wrong, so what use would that be, I should like to know?"

"Why, what's the row, eh, mother? the cat hasn't kittened, has she?" asked Freddy.

"No, my dear, no, it's not that; but, your father being in town, it has all come upon me so unexpectedly; poor thing! and she looking so pretty, too; oh, dear! when I said I was all alone, I never thought I shouldn't be; and so he left her here."

"And who may her be?" inquired Freddy, setting grammar at defiance, "the cat or the governor?"

"Why, my love, it's very unlucky—very awkward indeed; but one comfort is we're told it's all for the best when everything goes wrong—a very great comfort that is if one could only believe it; but poor Mr. Vernor, you see he was quite unhappy, I'm sure, he looked so cross, and no wonder, having to go up to London all in a hurry, and such a cold day too."

At the mention of this name my attention, which had been gradually dying a natural death, suddenly revived, and it was with a degree of impatience, which I could scarcely restrain, that I awaited the conclusion of Mrs. Coleman's rambling account. After a great deal of circumlocution, of which I will mercifully spare the reader the infliction, the following facts were elicited:—About an hour before our arrival, Mr. Vernor, accompanied by his ward, had called to see Mr. Coleman, and, finding he was from home, had asked for a few minutes' conversation with the lady of the house. His reason for so doing soon appeared; he had received letters requiring his immediate presence in London on business, which might probably detain him for a day or two; and not liking to leave Miss Saville quite alone, he had called with the intention of begging Mrs. Coleman to allow her niece, Lucy Markham, to stay with her friend at Barstone Priory till his return, and to save her from the horrors of solitude. This plan being rendered impracticable by reason of Lucy's absence.

~255~~ Mrs. Coleman proposed that Miss Saville should remain with her till Mr. Vernor's return, which, she added, would be conferring a benefit on her, as her husband and son being both from home, she was sadly dull without a companion. This plan having removed all difficulties, Mr. Vernor proceeded on his journey without further delay. Good Mrs. Coleman's agitation on our arrival bad been produced by the consciousness that Mr. Vernor would by no means approve of the addition of two dangerous young men to the party; however, Freddy consoled her by the ingenious sophism that it was much better for us to have arrived together than for him to have returned alone, as we should now neutralise each other's attractions; and, while the young lady's pleasure in our society would be doubled, she would be effectually guarded against falling in love with either of us, by reason of the impossibility of her overlooking the equal merits of what Mrs. Coleman would probably have termed "the survivor ". Having settled this knotty point to his own satisfaction, and perplexed his mother into the belief that our arrival was rather a fortunate circumstance than otherwise, Freddy despatched her to break the glorious tidings, as he called it, to the young lady, cautioning her to do so carefully, and by degrees, for that joy was very often quite as dangerous in its effects as sorrow.

Having closed the door after her, he relieved his feelings by a slight extempore hornpipe, and then slapping me on the back, exclaimed, "Here's a transcendent go! if this ain't taking the change out of old Vernor, I'm a Dutchman. Frank, you villain, you lucky dog, you've got it all your own way this time; not a chance for me; I may as well shut up shop at once, and buy myself a pair of pumps to dance in at your wedding."

"My dear fellow, how can you talk such utter nonsense?" returned I, trying to persuade myself that I was not pleased, but annoyed, at his insinuations.

"It's no nonsense, Master Frank, but, as I consider it, a very melancholy statement of facts. Why, even putting aside your 'antecedents,' as the French have it, the roasted wrist, the burnt ball-dress, and all the rest of it, look at your present advantages; here you are, just returned from the university, covered with academical honours, your cheeks paled by deep and abstruse study over the midnight lamp; your eyes flashing with unnatural lustre, indicative of an overwrought mind; a graceful languor softening the nervous energy of your manner, and imparting additional tenderness to the ~256~~ fascination of your address; in fact, till you begin to get into condition again you are the very beau ideal of what the women consider interesting and romantic."

"Well done, Freddy," replied I, "we shall discover a hidden vein of poetry in you some of these fine days; but talking of condition leads me to ask what time your good mother intends us to dine?"

"There, now you have spoilt it all," was the rejoinder; "however, viewed abstractedly, and without reference to the romantic, it's not such a bad notion either. I'll ring and inquire."

He accordingly did so, and, finding we had not above half an hour to wait, he proposed that we should go to our dressing-rooms and adorn before we attempted to face "the enemy," as he rudely designated Miss Saville.

It was not without a feeling of trepidation, for which I should have been at a loss to account, that I ventured to turn the handle of the drawing-room door, where I expected to find the party assembled before dinner. Miss Saville, who was seated on a low chair by Mrs. Coleman's side, rose quietly on my entrance, and advanced a step or two to meet me, holding out her hand with the unembarrassed familiarity of an old acquaintance. The graceful ease of her manner at once restored my self-possession, and, taking her proffered hand, I expressed my pleasure at thus unexpectedly meeting her again.

"You might have come here a hundred times without finding me, although Mrs. Coleman is kind enough to invite me very often," she replied. "But I seldom leave home; Mr. Vernor always appears to dislike parting with me."

"I can easily conceive that," returned I; "nay, although, in common with your other friends, I am a sufferer by his monopoly, I can almost pardon him for yielding to so strong a temptation."

"I wish I could flatter myself that the very complimentary construction you put upon it were the true one," replied Miss Saville, blushing slightly; "but I am afraid I should be deceiving myself if I were to imagine my society were at all indispensable to my guardian. I believe if you were to question him on the subject you would learn that his system is based rather on the Turkish notion, that, in order to keep a woman out of mischief, you must shut her up."

"Really, Miss Saville," exclaimed Coleman, who had entered the room in time to overhear her speech, "I am shocked to find you comparing your respectable and ~257~~ revered guardian to a heathen Turk, and Frank Fairlegh, instead of reproving you for it, aiding, abetting, encouraging, and, to speak figuratively, patting you on the back."

"I'm sure, Freddy," interrupted Mrs. Coleman, who had been aroused from one of her customary fits of absence by the last few words, "Mr. Fairlegh was doing nothing of the sort; he knows better than to think of such a thing. And if he didn't, do you suppose I should sit here and allow him to take such liberties? But I believe it's all your nonsense—and where you got such strange ideas I'm sure I can't tell; not out of Mrs. Trimmer's Sacred History, I'm certain, though you used to read it with me every Sunday afternoon when you were a good little boy, trying to look out of the window all the time, instead of paying proper attention to your books."

During the burst of laughter which followed this speech, and in which Miss Saville, after an ineffectual struggle to repress the inclination, out of respect to Mrs. Coleman, was fain to join, dinner was announced, and Coleman pairing off with the young lady, whilst I gave my arm to the old one, we proceeded to the dining-room.



CHAPTER XXXIII — WOMAN'S A RIDDLE

"Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care, But ask thou not if happiness be there." The Lord of the Isles.

"And here she came... And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas." The Talking Oak.

"Yet this is also true, that, long before, My heart was like a prophet to my heart, And told me I should love." Tennyson.

"DON'T you consider Fairlegh to be looking very thin and pale, Miss Saville?" inquired Coleman, when we joined the ladies after dinner, speaking with an air of such genuine solicitude, that any one not intimately acquainted with him must have imagined him in earnest. Miss Saville, who was completely taken in, answered innocently, "Indeed I have thought Mr. Fairlegh much altered since I had the pleasure of meeting him before"; ~258~~ then, glancing at my face with a look of unfeigned interest, which sent the blood bounding rapidly through my veins, she continued: "You have not been ill, I hope?" I was hastening to reply in the negative, and to enlighten her as to the real cause of my pale looks, when Coleman interrupted me by exclaiming:—

"Ah! poor fellow, it is a melancholy affair. In those pale cheeks, that wasted though still graceful form, and the weak, languid, and unhappy, but deeply interesting tout ensemble, you perceive the sad results of—am I at liberty to mention it?—of an unfortunate attachment."

"Upon my word, Freddy, you are too bad," exclaimed I half angrily, though I could scarcely refrain from laughing, for the pathetic expression of his countenance was perfectly irresistible. "Miss Saville, I can assure you—let me beg of you to believe, that there is not a word of truth in what he has stated."

"Wait a moment, you're so dreadfully fast, my dear fellow, you won't allow a man time to finish what he is saying," remonstrated my tormentor—"attachment to his studies I was going to add, only you interrupted me."

"I see I shall have to chastise you before you learn to behave yourself properly," replied I, shaking my fist at him playfully; "remember you taught me how to use the gloves at Dr. Mildman's, and I have not quite forgotten the science even yet."

"Hit a man your own size, you great big monster you," rejoined Coleman, affecting extreme alarm. "Miss Saville, I look to you to protect me from his tyranny; ladies always take the part of the weak and oppressed."

"But they do not interfere to shield evil-doers from the punishment due to their misdemeanours," replied Miss Saville archly.

"There now," grumbled Freddy, "that's always the way; every one turns against me. I'm a victim, though I have not formed an unfortunate attachment for—anything or anybody."

"I should like to see you thoroughly in love for once in your life, Freddy," said I; "it would be as good as a comedy."

"Thank ye," was the rejoinder, "you'd be a pleasant sort of fellow to make a confidant of, I don't think. Here's a man now, who calls himself one's friend, and fancies it would be 'as good as a comedy' to witness the display of our noblest affections, and would have all the tenderest emotions of our nature laid bare, for him to poke fun at—the barbarian!" ~259~~ "I did not understand Mr. Fairlegh's remark to apply to affaires du cour in general, but simply to the effects likely to be produced in your case by such an attack," observed Miss Saville, with a quiet smile.

"A very proper distinction," returned I; "I see that I cannot do better than leave my defence in your hands."

"It is quite clear that you have both entered into a plot against me," rejoined Freddy; "well, never mind, mea virtute me involvo: I wrap myself in a proud consciousness of my own immeasurable superiority, and despise your attacks."

"I have read, that to begin by despising your enemy, is one of the surest methods of losing the battle," replied Miss Saville.

"Oh! if you are going to quote history against me, I yield at once—there is nothing alarms me so much as the sight of a blue-stocking," answered Freddy.

Miss Saville proceeded to defend herself with much vivacity against this charge, and they continued to converse in the same light strain for some time longer; Coleman, as usual, being exceedingly droll and amusing, and the young lady displaying a decided talent for delicate and playful badinage. In order to enter con spirito into this style of conversation, we must either be in the enjoyment of high health and spirits, when our light-heartedness finds a natural vent in gay raillery and sparkling repartee, or we must be suffering a sufficient degree of positive unhappiness to make us feel that a strong effort is necessary to screen our sorrow from the careless gaze of those around us. Now, though Coleman had not been far wrong in describing me as "weak, languid, and unhappy," mine was not a positive, but a negative unhappiness, a gentle sadness, which was rather agreeable than otherwise, and towards which I was by no means disposed to use the slightest violence. I was in the mood to have shed tears with the love-sick Ophelia, or to moralise with the melancholy Jaques, but should have considered Mercutio a man of no feeling, and the clown a "very poor fool" indeed. In this frame of mind, the conversation appeared to me to have assumed such an essentially frivolous turn, that I soon ceased to take any share in it, and, turning over the leaves of a book of prints as an excuse for my silence, endeavoured to abstract my thoughts altogether from the scene around me, and employ them on some subject less dissonant to my present tone of feeling. As is usually the result in such cases, the attempt proved a dead failure, and I soon found ~260~~ myself speculating on the lightness and frivolity of women in general, and of Clara Saville in particular.

"How thoroughly absurd and misplaced," thought I, as her silvery laugh rang harshly on my distempered ear, "were all my conjectures that she was unhappy, and that, in the trustful and earnest expression of those deep blue eyes, I could read the evidence of a secret grief, and a tacit appeal for sympathy to those whom her instinct taught her were worthy of her trust and confidence! Ah! well, I was young and foolish then (it was not quite a year and a half ago), and imagination found an easy dupe in me; one learns to see things in their true light as one grows older, but it is sad how the doing so robs life of all its brightest illusions."

It did not occur to me at that moment that there was a slight injustice in accusing Truth of petty larceny in regard to a bright illusion in the present instance, as the fact (if fact it were) of proving that Miss Saville was happy instead of miserable could scarcely be reckoned among that class of offences.

"Come, Freddy," exclaimed Mrs. Coleman, suddenly waking up to a sense of duty, out of a dangerous little nap in which she had been indulging, and which occasioned me great uneasiness, by reason of the opportunity it afforded her for the display of an alarming suicidal propensity, which threatened to leave Mr. Coleman a disconsolate widower, and Freddy motherless.

As a warning to all somnolent old ladies, it may not be amiss to enter a little more fully into detail. The attack commenced by her sitting bolt upright in her chair, with her eyes so very particularly open, that it seemed as if, in her case, Macbeth or some other wonder-worker had effectually "murdered sleep". By slow degrees, however, her eyelids began to close; she grew less and less "wide awake," and ere long was fast as a church; her next move was to nod complacently to the company in general, as if to demand their attention; she then oscillated gently to and fro for a few seconds to get up the steam, and concluded the performance by suddenly flinging her head back, with an insane jerk, over the rail of the chair, at the imminent risk of breaking her neck, uttering a loud snort of triumph as she did so.

Trusting the reader will pardon, and the humane society award me a medal for this long digression, I resume the thread of my narrative.

"Freddy, my dear, can't you sing us that droll Italian song your cousin Lucy taught you? I'm sure poor Miss Saville must feel quite dull and melancholy."

~261~~ "Would to Heaven she did!" murmured I to myself. "Who is to play it for me?" asked Coleman. "Well, my love, I'll do my best," replied his mother; "and, if I should make a few mistakes, it will only sound all the funnier, you know."

This being quite unanswerable, the piano was opened, and, after Mrs. Coleman's spectacles had been hunted for in all probable places, and discovered at last in the coal-scuttle, a phenomenon which that good lady accounted for on the score of "John's having flurried her so when he brought in tea"; and when, moreover, she had been with difficulty prevailed on to allow the music-book to remain the right way upwards, the song was commenced.

As Freddy had a good tenor voice, and sang the Italian buffa song with much humour, the performance proved highly successful, although Mrs. Coleman was as good as her word in introducing some original and decidedly "funny" chords into the accompaniment, which would have greatly discomposed the composer, if he had by any chance overheard them.

"I did not know that you were such an accomplished performer, Freddy," observed I; "you are quite an universal genius."

"Oh, the song was capital!" said Miss Saville, "and Mr. Coleman sang it with so much spirit."

"Really," returned Freddy, with a low bow, "you do me proud, as brother Jonathan says; I am actually— that is, positively—"

"My dear Freddy," interrupted Mrs. Coleman, "I wish you would go and fetch Lucy's music; I'm sure Miss Saville can sing some of her songs; it's—let me see—yes, it's either downstairs in the study, or in the boudoir, or in the little room at the top of the house, or, if it isn't, you had better ask Susan about it."

"Perhaps the shortest way will be to consult Susan at once," replied Coleman, as he turned to leave the room.

"I presume you prefer buffa songs to music of a more pathetic character?" inquired I, addressing Miss Saville.

"You judge from my having praised the one we have just heard, I suppose?"

"Yes, and from the lively style of your conversation; I have been envying your high spirits all the evening."

"Indeed!" was the reply; "and why should you envy them?"

"Are they not an indication of happiness, and is not that an enviable possession?" returned I.

"Yes, indeed!" she replied in a low voice, but with such passionate earnestness as quite to startle me. "Is 262~~ laughing, then, such an infallible indication of happiness?" she continued.

"One usually supposes so," replied I.

To this she made no answer, unless a sigh can be called one, and, turning away, began looking over the pages of a music-book.

"Is there nothing you can recollect to sing, my dear?" asked Mrs. Coleman.

She paused for a moment as if in thought, ere she replied:—

"There is an old air, which I think I could remember; but I do not know whether you will like it. The words," she added, glancing towards me, "refer to the subject on which we have just been speaking."

She then seated herself at the instrument, and, after striking a few simple chords, sang, in a sweet, rich soprano, the following stanzas;—

I

"Behold, how brightly seeming All nature shows: In golden sunlight gleaming, Blushes the rose. How very happy things must be That are so bright and fair to see! Ah, no! in that sweet flower, A worm there lies; And lo! within the hour, It fades—it dies.

II

"Behold, young Beauty's glances Around she flings; While as she lightly dances, Her soft laugh rings: How very happy they must be, Who are as young and gay as she! 'Tis not when smiles are brightest, So old tales say, The bosom's lord sits lightest— Ah! well-a-day!

III

"Beneath the greenwood's cover The maiden steals, And, as she meets her lover, Her blush reveals How very happy all must be Who love with trustful constancy. By cruel fortune parted, She learns too late, How some die broken-hearted— Ah! hapless fate!"

~263~~ The air to which these words were set was a simple, plaintive, old melody, well suited to their expression, and Miss Saville sang with much taste and feeling. When she reached the last four lines of the second verse, her eyes met mine for an instant, with a sad, reproachful glance, as if upbraiding me for having misunderstood her; and there was a touching sweetness in her voice, as she almost whispered the refrain, "Ah! well-a-day!" which seemed to breathe the very soul of melancholy.

"Strange, incomprehensible girl!" thought I, as I gazed with a feeling of interest I could not restrain, upon her beautiful features, which were now marked by an expression of the most touching sadness—"who could believe that she was the same person who, but five minutes since, seemed possessed by the spirit of frolic and merriment, and appeared to have eyes and ears for nothing beyond the jokes and drolleries of Freddy Coleman?"

"That's a very pretty song, my dear," said Mrs. Coleman; "and I'm very much obliged to you for singing it, only it has made me cry so, it has given me quite a cold in my head, I declare;" and, suiting the action to the word, the tender-hearted old lady began to wipe her eyes, and execute sundry other manoeuvres incidental to the malady she had named. At this moment Freddy returned, laden with music-books. Miss Saville immediately fixed upon a lively duet which would suit their voices, and song followed song, till Mrs. Coleman, waking suddenly in a fright, after a tremendous attempt to break her neck, which was very near proving successful, found out that it was past eleven o'clock, and consequently bed-time.

It can scarcely be doubted that my thoughts, as I fell asleep (for, unromantic as it may appear, truth compels me to state that I never slept better in my life), turned upon my unexpected meeting with Clara Saville. The year and a half which had elapsed since the night of the ball had altered her from a beautiful girl into a lovely woman. Without in the slightest degree diminishing its grace and elegance, the outline of her figure had become more rounded, while her features had acquired a depth of expression which was not before observable, and which was the only thing wanting to render them (I had almost said) perfect. In her manner there was also a great alteration; the quiet reserve she had maintained when in the presence of Mr. Vernor, and the calm frankness displayed during our accidental meeting in Barstone ~264~~ Park, had alike given way to a strange excitability, which at times showed itself in the bursts of wild gaiety which had annoyed my fastidious sensitiveness in the earlier part of the evening, at others in the deep impassioned feeling she threw into her singing, though I observed that it was only in such songs as partook of a melancholy and even despairing character that she did so. The result of my meditations was, that the young lady was an interesting enigma, and that I could not employ the next two or three days to better advantage than in "doing a little bit of OEdipus." as Coleman would have termed it, or, in plain English, "finding her out ";—and hereabouts I fell asleep.



CHAPTER XXXIV — THE RIDDLE BAFFLES ME!

"Your riddle is hard to read." —Tennyson.

'"Are you content? I am what you behold. And that's a mystery." The Two Foscari.

THE post next morning brought a letter from Mr. Vernor to say that, as he found the business on which he was engaged must necessitate his crossing to Boulogne, he feared there was no chance of his being able to return under a week, but that, if it should be inconvenient for Mrs. Coleman to keep Miss Saville so long at Elm Lodge, he should wish her to go back to Barstone, where, if she was in any difficulty, she could easily apply to her late hostess for advice and assistance. On being brought clearly (though I fear the word is scarcely applicable to the good lady's state of mind at any time) to understand the position of affairs, Mrs. Coleman would by no means hear of Miss Saville's departure; but, on the contrary, made her promise to prolong her stay till her guardian should return, which, as Freddy observed, involved the remarkable coincidence that if Mr. Vernor should be drowned in crossing the British Channel, she (his mother) would have put her foot in it. The same post brought Freddy a summons from his father, desiring him, the moment he returned from Bury with the papers, to proceed to town immediately. There was nothing left for him, therefore, but to deposit himself upon the roof of the next coach, blue bag in hand, which he accordingly did, after having spent the intervening time in reviling ~265~~ all lawyers, clients, deeds, settlements, in fact, every individual thing connected with the profession, excepting fees.

"Clara and I are going for a long walk, Mr. Fairlegh, and we shall be glad of your escort, if you have no objection to accompany us, and it is not too far for you," said Mrs. Coleman (who evidently considered me in the last stage of a decline), trotting into the breakfast-room where I was lounging, book in hand, over the fire, wondering what possible pretext I could invent for joining the ladies.

"I shall be only too happy," answered I, "and I think I can contrive to walk as far as you can, Mrs. Coleman." "Oh! I don't know that," was the reply, "I am a capital walker, I assure you. I remember a young man, quite as young as you, and a good deal stouter, who could not walk nearly as far as I can; to be sure," she added as she left the room, "he had a wooden leg, poor fellow!"

I soon received a summons to start with the ladies, whom I found awaiting my arrival on the terrace walk at the back of the house, comfortably wrapped up in shawls and furs, for, although a bright sun was shining, the day was cold and frosty.

"You must allow me to carry that for you," said I, laying violent hands on a large basket, between which and a muff Mrs. Coleman was in vain attempting to effect an amicable arrangement.

"Oh, dear! I'm sure you'll never be able to carry it—it's so dreadfully heavy," was the reply.

"Nous verrons," answered I, swinging it on my forefinger, in order to demonstrate its lightness.

"Take care—you mustn't do so!" exclaimed Mrs. Coleman in a tone of extreme alarm; "you'll upset all my beautiful senna tea, and it will get amongst the slices of Christmas plum-pudding, and the flannel that I'm going to take for poor Mrs. Muddles's children to eat; do you know Mrs. Muddles, Clara, my dear?"

Miss Saville replied in the negative, and Mrs. Coleman continued:—

"Ah! poor thing! she's a very hard-working, respectable, excellent young woman; she has been married three years, and has got six children—no! let me see—it's six years, and three children—that's it—though I can never remember whether it's most pigs or children she has—four pigs, did I say?—but it doesn't much signify, for the youngest is a boy and will soon be fat enough to kill—the pig I mean, and they're all very dirty, and have never ~266~~ been taught to read, because she takes in washing, and has put a great deal too much starch in my night-cap this week—only her husband drinks—so I mustn't say much about it, poor thing, for we all have our failings, you know."



With suchlike rambling discourse did worthy Mrs. Coleman beguile the way, until at length, after a walk of some two miles and a half, we arrived at the cottage of that much-enduring laundress, the highly respectable Mrs. Muddles, where, in due form, we were introduced to the mixed race of children and pigs, between which heads clearer than that of Mrs. Coleman might have been at a loss to distinguish; for if the pigs did not exactly resemble children, the children most assuredly looked like pigs. Here we seemed likely to remain for some time, as there was much business to be transacted by the two matrons. First, Mrs. Coleman's basket was unpacked, during which process that lady delivered a long harangue, setting forth the rival merits of plum-pudding and black draught, and ingeniously establishing a connexion between them, which has rendered the former nearly as distasteful to me as the latter ever since. Thence glancing slightly at the overstarched night-cap, and delicately referring to the anti-teetotal propensities of the laundress's sposo, she contrived so thoroughly to confuse and interlace the various topics of her discourse, as to render it an open question, whether the male Muddles had not got tipsy on black draught, in consequence of the plum-pudding having overstarched the night-cap; moreover, she distinctly called the latter article "poor fellow!" twice. In reply to this, Mrs. Muddles, the skin of whose hands was crimped up into patterns like sea-weed, from the amphibious nature of her employment, and whose general appearance was, from the same cause, moist and spongy, expressed much gratitude for the contents of the basket, made a pathetic apology to the night-cap, tried to ignore the imbibing propensity of her better half; but, when pressed home upon the point, declared that when he was not engaged in the Circe-like operation of "making a beast of hisself," he was one of the most virtuousest of men; and finally wound up by a minute medical detail of Johnny's chilblain, accompanied by a slight retrospective sketch of Mary Anne's departed hooping-cough. How much longer the conversation might have continued, it is impossible to say, for it was evident that neither of the speakers had by any means exhausted her budget, had not Johnny, the unfortunate proprietor of the chilblain above alluded to, seen fit to precipitate himself, head-foremost, into a washing-tub ~267~~ of nearly scalding water, whence his mamma, with great presence of mind and much professional dexterity, extricated him, wrung him out, and set him on the mangle to dry, where he remained sobbing, from a vague sense of humid misery, till a more convenient season.

This little incident reminding Mrs. Coleman that the boiled beef, preparing for our luncheon and the servants' dinner, would inevitably be overdone, induced her to take a hurried farewell of Mrs. Muddles, though she paused at the threshold to offer a parting suggestion as to the advisability, moral and physical, of dividing the wretched Johnny's share of plum-pudding between his brothers and sisters, and administering a double portion of black draught by way of compensation, an arrangement which elicited from that much-wronged child a howl of mingled horror and defiance.

We had proceeded about a mile on our return, when Mrs. Coleman, who was a step or two in advance, trod on a slide some boys had made, and would have fallen had I not thrown my arm round her just in time to prevent it.