LIEUTENANT HORNBY.
Charles had always been passionately fond of horses and of riding. He
was a consummate horseman, and was so perfectly accomplished in
everything relating to horses, that I really believe that in time he
might actually have risen to the dizzy height of being stud-groom to a
great gentleman or nobleman. He had been brought up in a great
horse-riding house, and had actually gained so much experience, and had
so much to say on matters of this kind, that once, at Oxford, a
promising young nobleman cast, so to speak, an adverse opinion of
Charles's into George Simmond's own face. Mr. Simmonds looked round on
the offender mildly and compassionately, and said, "If any undergraduate
_could_ know, my lord, that undergraduate's name would be Ravenshoe of
Paul's. But he is young, my lord; and, in consequence, ignorant." His
lordship didn't say anything after that.
I have kept this fact in the background rather, hitherto, because it has
not been of any very great consequence. It becomes of some consequence
now, for the first time. I enlarged a little on Charles being a rowing
man, because rowing and training had, for good or for evil, a certain
effect on his character. (Whether for good or for evil, you must
determine for yourselves.) And I now mention the fact of his being a
consummate horseman, because a considerable part of the incidents which
follow arise from the fact.
Don't think for one moment that you are going to be bored by
stable-talk. You will have simply none of it. It only amounts to
this--that Charles, being fond of horses, took up with a certain line of
life, and in that line of life met with certain adventures which have
made his history worth relating.
When he met the "horsy" man next morning, he was not dressed like a
gentleman. In his store he had some old clothes, which he used to wear
at Ravenshoe, in the merry old days when he would be up with daylight to
exercise the horses on the moor--cord trousers, and so on--which, being
now old and worn, made him look uncommonly like a groom out of place.
And what contributed to the delusion was, that for the first time in his
life he wore no shirt collar, but allowed his blue-spotted neckcloth to
border on his honest red face, without one single quarter of an inch of
linen. And, if it ever pleases your lordship's noble excellence to look
like a blackguard for any reason, allow me to recommend you to wear a
dark necktie and no collar. Your success will be beyond your utmost
hopes.
Charles met his new friend in the bar, and touched his hat to him. His
friend laughed, and said, that would do, but asked how long he thought
he could keep that sort of thing going. Charles said, as long as was
necessary; and they went out together.
They walked as far as a street leading out of one of the largest and
best squares (I mean B--lg--e Sq--e, but I don't like to write it at
full length), and stopped at the door of a handsome shop. Charles knew
enough of London to surmise that the first floor was let to a man of
some wealth; and he was right.
The door was opened, and his friend was shown up stairs, while he was
told to wait in the hall. Now Charles began to perceive, with
considerable amusement, that he was acting a part--that he was playing,
so to speak, at being something other than what he really was, and that
he was, perhaps, overdoing it. In this house, which yesterday he would
have entered as an equal, he was now playing at being a servant. It was
immensely amusing. He wiped his shoes very clean, and sat down on a
bench in the hall, with his hat between his knees, as he had seen grooms
do. It is no use wondering; one never finds out anything by that. But I
do wonder, nevertheless, whether Charles, had he only known in what
relation the master of that house stood to himself, would or would not
have set the house on fire, or cut its owner's throat. When he did find
out, he did neither the one thing nor the other; but he had been a good
deal tamed by that time.
Presently a servant came down, and, eyeing Charles curiously as a
prospective fellow-servant, told him civilly to walk up stairs. He went
up. The room was one of a handsome suite, and overlooked the street.
Charles saw at a glance that it was the room of a great dandy. A dandy,
if not of the first water, most assuredly high up in the second. Two
things only jurred on his eye in his hurried glance round the room.
There was too much bric-a-brac, and too many flowers. "I wonder if he is
a gentleman," thought Charles. His friend of the night before was
standing in a respectful attitude, leaning on the back of a chair, and
Charles looked round for the master of the house, eagerly. He had to
cast his eyes downward to see him, for he was lying back on an easy
chair, half hidden by the breakfast table.
There he was--Charles's master: the man who was going to buy him.
Charles cast one intensely eager glance at him, and was satisfied. "He
will do at a pinch," said he to himself.
There were a great many handsome and splendid things in that room, but
the owner of them was by far the handsomest and most splendid thing
there.
He was a young man, with very pale and delicate features, and a
singularly amiable cast of face, who wore a moustache, with the long
whiskers which were just then coming into fashion; and he was dressed
in a splendid uniform of blue, gold, and scarlet, for he had been on
duty that morning, and had just come in. His sabre was cast upon the
floor before him, and his shako was on the table. As Charles looked at
him, he passed his hand over his hair. There was one ring on it, but
_such_ a ring! "That's a high-bred hand enough," said Charles to
himself. "And he hasn't got too much jewellery on him. I wonder who the
deuce he is?"
"This is the young man, sir," said Charles's new friend.
Lieutenant Hornby was looking at Charles, and after a pause, said--
"I take him on your recommendation, Sloane. I have no doubt he will do.
He seems a good fellow. You are a good fellow, ain't you?" he continued,
addressing Charles personally, with that happy graceful insolence which
is the peculiar property of prosperous and entirely amiable young men,
and which charms one in spite of oneself.
Charles replied, "I am quarrelsome sometimes among my equals, but I am
always good-tempered among horses."
"That will do very well. You may punch the other two lads' heads as much
as you like. They don't mind me; perhaps they may you. You will be over
them. You will have the management of everything. You will have
unlimited opportunities of robbing and plundering me, with an entire
absence of all chance of detection. But you won't do it. It isn't your
line, I saw at once. Let me look at your hand."
Charles gave him the great ribbed paw which served him in that capacity.
And Hornby said--
"Ha! Gentleman's hand. No business of mine. Don't wear that ring, will
you? A groom mustn't wear such rings as that. Any character?"
Charles showed him the letter Lord Ascot had written.
"Lord Ascot, eh? I know Lord Welter, slightly."
"The deuce you do," thought Charles.
"Were you in Lord Ascot's stables?"
"No, sir. I am the son of Squire Ravenshoe's gamekeeper. The Ravenshoes
and my Lord Ascot's family are connected by marriage. Ravenshoe is in
the west country, sir. Lord Ascot knows me by repute, sir, and has a
good opinion of me."
"It is perfectly satisfactory. Sloane, will you put him in the way of
his duties? Make the other lads understand that he is master, will you?
You may go."