Lady Allonby fell to wringing her hands, but Dorothy had knelt beside the
prostrate form and was inspecting the ravages of my fratricidal sword. "Oh,
fy! fy!" says she immediately, and wrinkles her saucy nose; "had none of
you the sense to perceive that Gerald was tipsy? And as for the wound, 'tis
only a scratch here on the left shoulder. Get water, somebody." And her
command being obeyed, she cleansed the hurt composedly and bandaged it with
the ruffle of her petticoat.
Meanwhile we hulking men stood thick about her, fidgeting and foolishly
gaping like a basket of fish; and presently a sibilance of relief went
about our circle as Gerald opened his eyes. "Sister," says he, with a
profoundly tragic face, "remember--remember that I perished to preserve the
honor of our family."
"To preserve a fiddlestick!" said my adored Dorothy. And, rising, she
confronted me, a tinted statuette of decision. "Now, Frank," says she, "I
would like to know the meaning of this nonsense."
And thereupon, for the second time, I recounted the dreadful and huddled
action of the night.
When I had ended, "The first thing," says she, "is to let Grandmother out
of that room. And the second is to show me the Parson." This was done; the
Dowager entered in an extremity of sulkiness, and the Parson, on being
pointed out, lowered his eyes and intensified his complexion.
"As I anticipated," says my charmer, "you are, one and all, a parcel of
credulous infants. 'Tis a parson, indeed, but merely the parson out of
Vanbrugh's _Relapse_; only last Friday, sir, we heartily commended your
fine performance. Why, Frank, the man is one of the play-actors."
"I fancy," Mr. Vanringham here interpolates, "that I owe the assembled
company some modicum of explanation. 'Tis true that at the beginning of
our friendship I had contemplated matrimony with our amiable Marchioness,
but, I confess, 'twas the lady's property rather than her person which was
the allure. And reflection dissuaded me; a legal union left me, a young
and not unhandsome man, irrevocably fettered to an old woman; whereas a
mock-marriage afforded an eternal option to compound the match--for a
consideration--with the lady's relatives, to whom, I had instinctively
divined, her alliance with me would prove distasteful. Accordingly I
had availed myself of my colleague's skill [Footnote: I witnessed this
same Quarmby's hanging in 1754, and for a burglary, I think, with an
extraordinary relish.--F.A.] in the portrayal of clerical parts rather than
resort to any parson whose authority was unrestricted by the footlights.
And accordingly--"
"And accordingly my marriage," I interrupted, "is not binding?"
"I can assure you," he replied, "that you might trade your lawful right in
the lady for a twopenny whistle and not lose by the bargain."
"And what about my marriage?" says the Marchioness--"the marriage which was
never to be legalized?--'twas merely that you might sell me afterward, like
so much mutton, was it, you jumping-jack--!"
But I spare you her ensuing gloss upon this text.
The man heard her through, without a muscle twitching. "It is more than
probable," he conceded, "that I have merited each and every fate your
Ladyship is pleased to invoke. Indeed, I consider the extent of your
distresses to be equaled only by that of your vocabulary. Yet by ordinary
the heart of woman is not obdurate, and upon one lady here I have some
claim--"
Dorothy had drawn away from him, with an odd and frightened cry. "Not upon
me, sir! I never saw you except across the footlights. You know I never saw
you except across the footlights, Mr. Vanringham!"
Fixedly he regarded her, with a curious yet not unpleasing smile. "I am
the more unfortunate," he said, at last. "Nay, 'twas to Lady Allonby I
addressed my appeal."
The person he named had been whispering with George Erwyn, but now she
turned toward the actor. "Heavens!" said Lady Allonby, "to think I should
be able to repay you this soon! La, of course, you are at liberty, Mr.
Vanringham, and we may treat the whole series of events as a frolic
suited to the day. For I am under obligations to you, and, besides, your
punishment would breed a scandal, and, above all, anything is preferable to
being talked about in the wrong way."
Having reasons of my own, I was elated by the upshot of this rather
remarkable affair. Yet in justice to my own perspicacity, I must declare
that it occurred to me, at this very time, that Mr. Vanringham had proven
himself not entirely worthy of unlimited confidence, I reflected, however,
that I had my instructions, and that, if a bad king may prove a good
husband, a knave may surely carry a letter with fidelity, the more so if it
be to his interest to do it.