EXPLANATION.
It was past seven o'clock when Trevanion made his appearance, accompanied
by O'Leary; and having in few words informed me that a meeting was fixed
for the following morning, near St. Cloud, proposed that we should go to
dinner at Verey's, after which we should have plenty of time to discuss
the various steps to be taken. As we were leaving the hotel for this
purpose, a waiter requested of me to permit Mr. Meurice to speak a few
words to me; which, having agreed to, I entered the little bureau where
this Czar of hotels sits enthroned, and what was my surprise to learn the
request he had to prefer, was nothing less than that I would so far
oblige him as to vacate the room I possessed in the hotel, adding that my
compliance would confer upon him the power to accommodate a "milor" who
had written for apartments, and was coming with a large suite of
servants. Suspecting that some rumour of the late affair at Frescati
might have influenced my friend Meurice in this unusual demand, I
abruptly refused, and was about to turn away, when he, perhaps guessing
that I had not believed his statements, handed me an open letter, saying,
"You see, sir, this is the letter; and, as I am so pressed for spare
room, I must now refuse the writer."
As my eye glanced at the writing, I started back with amazement to
perceive it was in my cousin Guy's hand, requesting that apartments might
be retained for Sir Guy Lorrequer, my uncle, who was to arrive in Paris
by the end of the week. If any doubt had remained on my mind as to the
deception I had been duped by, this would completely have dispelled it,
but I had long before been convinced of the trick, and only wondered how
the false Guy--Mr. Dudley Morewood--had contrived to present himself to
me so opportunely, and by what means, in so short a space of time, he had
become acquainted with my personal appearance.
As I mentioned this circumstance of the letter to Trevanion, he could not
conceal his satisfaction at his sagacity in unravelling the mystery,
while this new intelligence confirmed the justness and accuracy of all
his explanations.
While we walked along towards the Palais Royale, Trevanion endeavoured
not very successfully, to explain to my friend O'Leary, the nature of the
trick which had been practised, promising, at another time, some
revelations concerning the accomplished individual who had planned it,
which, in boldness and daring, eclipsed even this.
Any one who in waking has had the confused memory of a dream in which
events have been so mingled and mixed as to present no uniform narrative,
but only a mass of strange and incongruous occurrences, without object or
connexion, may form some notion of the state of restless excitement my
brain suffered from, as the many and conflicting ideas my late adventures
suggested, presented themselves to my mind in rapid succession.
The glare, the noise, and the clatter of a French cafe are certainly not
the agents most in request for restoring a man to the enjoyment of his
erring faculties; and, if I felt addled and confused before, I had
scarcely passed the threshold of Verey's when I became absolutely like
one in a trance. The large salon was more than usually crowded, and it
was with difficulty that we obtained a place at a table where some other
English were seated, among whom I recognised by lately made acquaintance,
Mr. Edward Bingham.
Excepting a cup of coffee I had taken nothing the entire day, and so
completely did my anxieties of different kinds subdue all appetite, that
the most recherche viands of this well-known restaurant did not in the
least tempt me. The champagne alone had any attraction for me; and,
seduced by the icy coldness of the wine, I drank copiously. This was all
that was wanting to complete the maddening confusion of my brain, and the
effect was instantaneous; the lights danced before my eyes; the lustres
whirled round; and, as the scattered fragments of conversations, on
either side met my ear, I was able to form some not very inaccurate
conception of what insanity may be. Politics and literature, Mexican
bonds and Noblet's legs, Pates de perdreaux and the quarantine laws, the
extreme gauche and the "Bains Chinois," Victor Hugo and rouge et noir,
had formed a species of grand ballet d'action in my fevered brain, and I
was perfectly beside myself; occasionally, too, I would revert to my own
concerns, although I was scarcely able to follow up any train of thought
for more than a few seconds together, and totally inadequate to
distinguish the false from the true. I continued to confound the
counterfeit with my cousin, and wonder how my poor uncle, for whom I was
about to put on the deepest mourning, could possibly think of driving me
out of my lodgings. Of my duel for the morning, I had the most shadowy
recollection, and could not perfectly comprehend whether it was O'Leary
or I was the principal, and indeed cared but little. In this happy state
of independent existence I must have passed a considerable time, and as
my total silence when spoken to, or my irrelevant answers, appeared to
have tired out my companions, they left me to the uninterrupted enjoyment
of my own pleasant imaginings.
"Do you hear, Lorrequer," at last said Trevanion; "are you asleep, my
dear friend? This gentleman has been good enough to invite us to
breakfast to-morrow at St. Cloud."
I looked up, and was just able to recognise the well-trimmed moustache of
Mr. Edward Bingham, as he stood mumbling something before me. "St. Cloud
--what of St. Cloud?" said I.
"We have something in that quarter to-morrow."
"What is it, O'Leary? Can we go?"
"Oh! certainly--our engagement's an early one."
"We shall accept your polite invitation with pleasure"--
Here he stooped over, and whispered something in my ear; what, I cannot
say, but I know that my reply, now equally lost to me, produced a hearty
fit of laughing to my two friends.
My next recollection is, finding myself in a crowded loge at the theatre.
It seems that O'Leary had acceded to a proposal from some of the other
party to accompany them to the Porte St. Martin, where Mrs. Bingham and
her daughter had engaged a box. Amid all the confusion which troubled
thoughts and wine produced in me, I could not help perceiving a studied
politeness and attention on the part of Mr. Edward Bingham towards me;
and my first sobering reflection came, on finding that a place was
reserved for me beside Miss Bingham, into which, by some contrivance I
can in no wise explain, I found myself almost immediately installed. To
all the excitements of champagne and punch, let the attractions of a
French ballet be added, and, with a singularly pretty companion at your
side, to whom you have already made sufficient advances to be aware that
you are no longer indifferent to her, and I venture to predict, that it
is much more likely your conversation will incline to flirting than
political economy; and, moreover, that you make more progress during the
performance of one single pas de deux upon the stage, than you have
hitherto done in ten morning calls, with an unexceptionable whisker and
the best fitting gloves in Paris. Alas! alas! it is only the rich man
that ever wins at rouge et noir. The well-insured Indiaman, with her
cargo of millions, comes safe into port; while the whole venture of some
hardy veteran of the wave, founders within sight of his native shore. So
is it ever; where success would be all and every thing, it never comes
--but only be indifferent or regardless, and fortune is at your feet,
suing and imploring your acceptance of her favours. What would I not
have given for one half of that solicitude now so kindly expressed in my
favour by Miss Bingham, if syllabled by the lips of Lady Jane Callonby
--how would my heart have throbbed for one light smile from one, while I
ungratefully basked in the openly avowed preference of the other. These
were my first thoughts--what were the succeeding ones?
"Comment elle est belle," said a Frenchwoman, turning round in the box
next to us, and directing at the same moment the eyes of a moustached
hero upon my fair companion.
What a turn to my thoughts did this unexpected ejaculation give rise to!
I now began to consider her more attentively, and certainly concurred
fully in the Frenchwoman's verdict. I had never see her look half so
well before. The great fault in her features, which were most
classically regular, lay in the monotony and uniform character of their
expression. Now this was quite changed. Her cheek was slightly flushed,
and her eyes more brilliant than ever; while her slightly parted lips
gave a degree of speaking earnestness to her expression, that made her
perfectly beautiful.
Whether it was from this cause I cannot say, but I certainly never felt
so suddenly decided in my life from one course to its very opposite, as I
now did to make l'aimable to my lovely companion. And here, I fear, I
must acknowledge, in the honesty of these confessional details, that
vanity had also its share in the decision. To be the admitted and
preferred suitor of the prettiest woman in company, is generally a strong
inducement to fall desperately in love with her, independently of other
temptations for so doing.
How far my successes tallied with my good intentions in this respect, I
cannot now say. I only remember, that more than once O'Leary whispered
to me something like a caution of some sort or other; but Emily's
encouraging smiles and still more encouraging speeches had far more
effect upon me than all the eloquence of the united service, had it been
engaged in my behalf, would have effected. Mrs. Bingham, too--who, to do
her justice, seemed but little cognisant of our proceedings--from time to
time evinced that species of motherly satisfaction which very young men
rejoice much in, and older ones are considerably alarmed at.
The play over O'Leary charged himself with the protection of madam,
while I enveloped Emily in her cachmere, and drew her arm within my own.
What my hand had to do with her's I know not; it remains one of the
unexplained difficulties of that eventful evening. I have, it is true,
a hazy recollection of pressing some very taper and delicately formed
finger--and remember, too, the pain I felt next morning on awaking, by
the pressure of a too tight ring, which had, by some strange accident,
found its way to my finger, for which its size was but ill adapted.
"You will join us at supper, I hope," said Mrs. Bingham, as Trevanion
handed her to her carriage. "Mr. Lorrequer, Mr. O'Leary, we shall expect
you."
I was about to promise to do so, when Trevanion, suddenly interrupted
me, saying that he had already accepted an invitation, which would,
unfortunately, prevent us; and having hastily wished the ladies good
night, hurried me away so abruptly, that I had not a moment given for
even one parting look at the fair Emily.
"Why, Trevanion," said I, "what invitation are you dreaming of? I, for
one, should have been delighted to have gone home with the Binghams."
"So I perceived," said Trevanion, gravely; "and it was for that precise
reason I so firmly refused what, individually, I should have been most
happy to accept."
"Then, pray, have the goodness to explain."
"It is easily done. You have already, in recounting your manifold
embarrassments, told me enough of these people, to let me see that they
intend you should marry among them; and, indeed, you have gone quite far
enough to encourage such an expectation. Your present excited state has
led you sufficiently far this evening, and I could not answer for your
not proposing in all form before the supper was over; therefore, I had no
other course open to me than positively to refuse Mrs. Bingham's
invitation. But here we are now at the 'Cadran rouge;' we shall have our
lobster and a glass of Moselle, and then to bed, for we must not forget
that we are to be at St. Cloud by seven."
"Ah! that is a good thought of yours about the lobster," said O'Leary;
"and now, as you understand these matters, just order supper, and let us
enjoy ourselves."
With all the accustomed despatch of a restaurant, a most appetizing petit
souper made its speedy appearance; and although now perfectly divested of
the high excitement which had hitherto possessed me, my spirits were
excellent, and I never more relished our good fare and good fellowship.
After a full bumper to the health of the fair Emily had been proposed and
drained by all three, Trevanion again explained how much more serious
difficulty would result from any false step in that quarter than from all
my other scrapes collectively.
This he represented so strongly, that for the first time I began to
perceive the train of ill consequences that must inevitably result, and
promised most faithfully to be guided by any counsel he might feel
disposed to give me.
"Ah! what a pity," said O'Leary, "it is not my case. It's very little
trouble it would cost any one to break off a match for me. I had always
a most peculiar talent for those things.
"Indeed!" said Trevanion. "Pray, may we know your secret? for, perhaps,
ere long we may have occasion for its employment."
"Tell it, by all means," said I.
"If I do," said O'Leary, "it will cost you a patient hearing; for my
experiences are connected with two episodes in my early life, which,
although not very amusing, are certainly instructive."
"Oh! by all means, let us hear them," said Trevanion; "for we have yet
two bottles of chambertin left, and must finish them ere we part."
"Well, agreed," said O'Leary; "only, once for all, as what I am about to
confide is strictly confidential, you must promise never even to allude
to it hereafter in even the most remote manner, much less indulge in any
unseemly mirth at what I shall relate."
Having pledged ourselves to secrecy and a becoming seriousness, O'Leary
began his story as follows:--