THE ADMIRAL’S PREPARATIONS, AND THE VISIT TO DEARBROOK.
It was quite finally settled between the admiral and the Bannerworths
that he was to have the whole conducting of the marriage business,
and he even succeeded in getting a concession from Flora Bannerworth,
that he might invite more than twenty guests as had at first been
stipulated. Indeed, she told him that he might ask forty if he pleased.
The admiral had asked for this enlargement of his powers, because he
had received from the lawyer such a satisfactory list of people who
were eligible to be invited, that he found it extremely difficult
to draw any invidious distinction; and, accordingly, he felt fully
inclined, as far as he was concerned, to invite them all, which was a
piece of liberality he scarcely expected Flora would accede to.
When, however, he got leave to double the number, he considered that he
was all right, and he said to Jack Pringle, to whom, as usual, he had
got completely reconciled,—
“I say, Jack, my boy, we’ll have the whole ship’s crew, and no mistake;
for, at a wedding, the more the merrier, you know.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Jack, “that’s true. I have not been married more
than a dozen times myself, at the outside, and I always took care to
have lots of fun.”
“A dozen times, Jack! you don’t mean that?”
“I rather think I does. You know I was married at different ports of
India twice; and then wasn’t I married in Jamaky; and then after that
wasn’t I married in the South Seas, in one of the Friendly Islands?”
“A deuced deal too friendly, I should say. Why, confound you, Jack, you
must have the impudence of the very devil.”
“Yes, I believe ye I have. I look upon it that it’s our impudence has
got us on in the world.”
“How dare you say our, you vagabond? But, however, I won’t quarrel
with you now, at any rate, for I expect you to dance a hornpipe at
the wedding. But mind me now, Jack, I am serious—I won’t have any
drunkenness.”
“Well, it’s rather a hard thing that a fellow can’t get drunk at a
wedding; but I suppose I must put up with that deadly injury, and do
the best I can. And now, admiral, as you have looked over that little
affair of mine, in going to the lawyer’s when you didn’t want me, I’ll
make you a voluntary promise, and that is, that I’ll only take two
bottles all the day long.
“Two bottles of what?”
“Oh, rum, of course.”
“Well, that’s moderate; for as I have known you, I think, take about
five, of course I can’t very well say anything to two; so you may take
that much, Jack, for I really think you won’t be much the worse of it.”
“The worse of it! I should think not, sir. It rather strikes me that
two bottles of rum wouldn’t hurt a new-born baby. It’s just for all
the world like milk, you know; it has no effect upon me; and as far as
being fond of drink goes, I’d just as soon take pump water, if it had a
different taste, and was a d—d deal stronger.”
“Well, well, Jack, that’s a bargain, you know, so we need say nothing
more about it.”
“I suppose there will be a fiddle, and all that sort of thing?”
“Oh, don’t doubt that there shall be lots of fun.”
“Then I am your man. I’ll show them a thing or two that will make them
open their eyes a bit; and if so be as they wants anything in the shape
of a yarn, I’m the proper sort of individual to give it them, I rather
think, and no mistake. I’ll tell them how you ran away once, with a
female savage after you, with a long thing like a skewer, that she
called a spear, and how you called to all the ship’s crew to come and
help you, as if the very devil was at your heels.”
Jack very prudently did not wait for an answer to this; for he was
rather well aware that it was not the sort of thing that was exactly
pleasing to the admiral, who was just upon the point, of course, of
getting into one of his rages, which would have produced another
quarrel, only, as a matter of course, to end in another reconciliation.
The old man, however, was too well pleased with the unlimited
commission he had to do as he pleased regarding the marriage affair,
to allow himself to be put much out of the way in the matter, and he
bent all his mind and energies towards the completion of that piece
of business which he had in hand, and which was certainly the most
interesting to him that he had ever been permitted to engage in.
Passing as he did almost the whole of his life upon the ocean, he had
never married, and his affection for Charles Holland, who was the only
relative he had in the world, was of that concentrated nature which is
only to be found under such circumstances.
Charles’s mother had always had a large portion of the admiral’s
regards, and when upon returning home once from a cruise of three
years’ duration he found that she was dead, and had left behind her an
orphan child, he at once avowed his intention of filling the place of
a parent to it, and that he had both in the spirit and the letter kept
his word, we know that Charles Holland was always most ready to admit.
Perhaps the severest shock he ever experienced was when that letter
purporting to be from Charles, but which was really the production of
Marchdale and Varney, was produced, and which seemed at the first blush
to imply a dishonourable breaking of his contract with Flora; and if
anything could have increased his admiration of her, it certainly was
the generous and noble manner in which she repudiated that attempt to
injure Charles in her esteem, and at once declared her belief that the
letter was a forged document.
We may easily imagine, then, from these preceding circumstances, that
the marriage of Charles with one whom he so entirely approved of was
one of the most gratifying affairs in the old man’s life, and that he
viewed it with an extraordinary interest.
As we have before stated, he got possession for a month of the house on
which he had fixed his fancy, and an extremely handsome and commodious
place it was.
It was arranged that after they had remained there for some time they
should all move off to Dearbrook together, and as it was only in early
infancy that the Bannerworths had seen that estate, they purposed
paying it a visit before the marriage ceremony took place.
This was an idea of the old admiral’s, for he said truly enough, “You
can’t possibly know what state it is in till you go there, and it may
be necessary, for all we know, to do a great deal to it before it is
fit for occupation.”
Apart from this consideration, too, it seemed likely enough that
somebody might be in it; for of late it had changed hands, and, for all
they knew, the Bannerworth family might have to institute a suit at law
for its recovery.
The distance was sufficient to make it a whole day’s journey; but
it was a very pleasant one, for they went in a travelling carriage,
replete with every accommodation, and the road passed through one
of the most fertile and picturesque counties of England, being
interspersed with hill and dale most charmingly, and reminding the
younger branches of the Bannerworths of some of those delightful
continental excursions which they once had the means of making, but
which, for a long time, they had not had an opportunity of enjoying.
It was towards the close of a day of great beauty, for the season, that
they reached the village of Dearbrook, close to where the estate was
situated, and put up at the principal inn, to which they were directed.
The circumstances under which the Dearbrook property had been left for
a long time had been such, that there was likely to be some difficulty
concerning it.
In fact, it had been used by Marmaduke Bannerworth as a kind of
security from time to time for his gambling debts, so it was probable
that hardly any one had had it long enough to trouble himself about
rentals.
“If we find any one,” said Henry Bannerworth, “in possession, I shall
not trouble them to pay anything for the use of the house they have
had, provided they quietly give up possession, and leave the place in a
decent state.”
“Oh, that of course they will do,” said Charles Holland, “and be too
glad to escape arrears of rent; but it would be no bad thing to ask
the landlord of this house what is the state of the property; no doubt
he can not only let us know whether it be tenanted or not, but, if so,
what sort of people they are who occupy it.”
This suggestion was agreed to, and when the landlord was summoned, and
the question put, he said,—
“Oh, yes, I know the Dearbrook estate quite well; it’s a very handsome
little property, and is at present occupied by a Mr. Jeremiah Shepherd,
a Quaker—a very worthy gentleman indeed, I believe; but I suppose all
Quakers are worthy people, because, you see, sir, they wear broad
brimmed hats and no collars to their coats.”
“An excellent reason,” said the admiral; “but I had a friend who did
know something about Quakers, and he used to say that they had got such
a reputation for honesty that they could afford to be rogues for the
rest of their existence.”
“Well, well,” said Henry, “we can but call upon him. Do you think that
this would be a reasonable hour?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” said the landlord; “he is sure to be at home at this
hour if you have any business to transact with Mr. Shepherd. He is
a very respectable man, sir, and as it is his own property that he
lives upon, he is quite a gentleman, and never wears anything but drab
breeches and gaiters.”
Without waiting to enter into any further conversation with the
landlord, who had such extraordinary reasons for his opinions, Henry,
and Charles, and the admiral, leaving the rest of the party at the
inn, proceeded to Dearbrook Lodge, as it was called, and found as
they approached it that it exceeded in appearance their warmest
anticipations.
It was a substantial red brick house, of the Tudor style of
architecture, and had that air of dignified and quiet repose about it
which a magnificent lawn, of the greenest possible turf, in the front
always gives to a country mansion.
The grounds, too, seemed to be extensive, and, to take it for all in
all, the Bannerworth family had every reason to be well pleased with
this first view that they got of their acquired property.
“You will have some trouble,” said the admiral, “with the Quaker, you
may depend. They are a race that cry hold fast to anything in the shape
of pounds, shillings, and pence, and are not very easy to be dealt
with.”
“Oh, the man will not be so absurd, I should think,” said Charles. “It
can be proved that the estate was in the Bannerworth family for many
years, and your possession, Henry, of the title deeds will set the
question at rest. But see what a stately looking servant is coming in
answer to the ring which I have just given to the bell.”
A footman, most certainly having all the appearance of what is so
frequently advertised for as “a serious man servant,” advanced to the
gate, and, in answer to the inquiry if Mr. Shepherd was within, he
said,—
“Yes, truly is he; but he liketh not to be disturbed, for he is
at prayers—that is to say, at dinner, and is not accustomed to be
disturbed thereat.”
“I regret that we must disturb him,” said Henry, “for our business
happens to be important, and we must positively see him.”
Upon this remonstrance the servant unlocked the gate, and conducted
them up a path by the side of the lawn which led to the house, and the
more they saw of it the more pleased they were with the many natural
beauties with which it abounded, and Henry whispered to Charles,—
“I am quite sure that Flora will be delighted with this place, for,
if I know anything of her taste, it will just suit it agreeably and
comfortably, and I do sincerely hope that we shall be able to get
possession without the disagreeable necessity of a law suit.”
They were ushered into a handsome apartment, and then told that Mr.
Shepherd would be with them very shortly; and they were not sorry to
have a little leisure for studying the place before its reputed owner
made his appearance.
“I suppose,” said Henry, “the best way will be at once to state that
I am the owner of the place, and upon what conditions I am willing
to forego any claim that I might otherwise succeed in setting up for
arrears of rental during the time that he has been here.”
“Oh, yes,” said Charles; “you cannot be too explicit; but hush! here he
comes, and you will soon know what sort of an individual you have to
deal with in this matter.”
At this moment, the door opened, and Mr. Shepherd, the present
ostensible possessor of the Dearbrook estate, and whose appearance
spoke to the truth of the landlord’s word, make his appearance. But as
what he said was sufficiently important to deserve a new chapter, we
shall oblige him with one.