DIPLOMACY.
About a week after the last conversation that has been related as
having taken place at the Kanturk Hotel, Mr. Mollett junior was
on his way to Castle Richmond. He had on that occasion stated his
intention of making such a journey with the view of "freshening the
old gentleman up a bit;" and although his father did all in his power
to prevent the journey, going so far on one occasion as to swear that
if it was made he would throw over the game altogether, nevertheless
Aby persevered.
"You may leave the boards whenever you like, governor," said Aby. "I
know quite enough of the part to carry on the play."
"You think you do," said the father in his anger; "but you'll find
yourself in the dark yet before you've done."
And then again he expostulated in a different tone. "You'll ruin it
all, Aby; you will indeed; you don't know all the circumstances;
indeed you don't."
"Don't I?" said Aby. "Then I'll not be long learning them."
The father did what he could; but he had no means of keeping his son
at home, and so Aby went. Aby doubtless entertained an idea that his
father was deficient in pluck for the management of so difficult
a matter, and that he could supply what his father wanted. So he
dressed himself in his best, and having hired a gig and a man who he
flattered himself would look like a private servant, he started from
Cork, and drove himself to Castle Richmond.
He had on different occasions been down in the neighbourhood,
prowling about like a thief in the night, picking up information
as he called it, and seeing how the land lay; but he had never yet
presented himself to any one within the precincts of the Castle
Richmond demesne. His present intention was to drive up to the front
door, and ask at once for Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, sending in his card
if need be, on which were printed the words:--
MR. ABRAHAM MOLLETT, Junior.
With the additional words, "Piccadilly, London," written in the
left-hand lower corner.
"I'll take the bull by the horns," said he to himself. "It's better
to make the spoon at once, even if we do run some small chance of
spoiling the horn." And that he might be well enabled to carry out
his purpose with reference to this bull, he lifted his flask to
his mouth as soon as he had passed through the great demesne gate,
and took a long pull at it. "There's nothing like a little jumping
powder," he said, speaking to himself again, and then he drove boldly
up the avenue.
He had not yet come in sight of the house when he met two gentlemen
walking on the road. They, as he approached, stood a little on one
side, not only so as to allow him to pass, but to watch him as he did
so. They were Mr. Somers and Herbert Fitzgerald.
"It is the younger of those two men. I'm nearly certain of it,"
said Somers as the gig approached. "I saw him as he walked by me in
Kanturk Street, and I don't think I can mistake the horrid impudence
of his face. I beg your pardon, sir,"--and now he addressed Mollett
in the gig--"but are you going up to the house?"
"Yes, sir; that's my notion just at present. Any commands that way?"
"This is Mr. Fitzgerald--Mr. Herbert Fitzgerald; and I am Mr. Somers,
the agent. Can we do anything for you?"
Aby Mollett raised his hat, and the two gentlemen touched theirs.
"Thank'ee, sir," said Aby; "but I believe my business must be with
the worthy baro-nett himself; more particularly as I 'appen to know
that he's at home."
"My father is not very well," said Herbert, "and I do not think that
he will be able to see you."
"I'll take the liberty of hasking and of sending in my card," said
Aby; and he gave his horse a flick as intending thus to cut short the
conversation. But Mr. Somers had put his hand upon the bridle, and
the beast was contented to stand still.
"If you'll have the kindness to wait a moment," said Mr. Somers; and
he put on a look of severity, which he well knew how to assume, and
which somewhat cowed poor Aby. "You have been down here before, I
think," continued Mr. Somers.
"What, at Castle Richmond? No, I haven't. And if I had, what's that
to you if Sir Thomas chooses to see me? I hain't hintruding, I
suppose."
"You've been down at Kanturk before--once or twice; for I have seen
you."
"And supposing I've been there ten or twelve times,--what is there in
that?" said Aby.
Mr. Somers still held the horse's head, and stood a moment
considering.
"I'll thank you to let go my 'oss," said Aby raising his whip and
shaking the reins.
"What do you say your name is?" asked Mr. Somers.
"I didn't say my name was anything yet. I hain't ashamed of it,
however, nor hasn't hany cause to be. That's my name, and if you'll
send my card in to Sir Thomas, with my compliments, and say that
hi've three words to say to him very particular; why hi'll be obliged
to you." And then Mr. Mollett handed Mr. Somers his card.
"Mollett!" said Mr. Somers very unceremoniously. "Mollett, Mollett.
Do you know the name, Herbert?"
Herbert said that he did not.
"It's about business I suppose?" asked Mr. Somers.
"Yes," said Aby; "private business; very particular."
"The same that brought your father here;" and Mr. Somers again looked
into his face with a close scrutiny.
Aby was abashed, and for a moment or two he did not answer. "Well,
then; it is the same business," he said at last. "And I'll thank you
to let me go on. I'm not used to be stopped in this way."
"You can follow us up to the house," said Mr. Somers to him. "Come
here, Herbert." And then they walked along the road in such a way
that Aby was forced to allow his horse to walk after them.
"These are the men who are doing it," said Mr. Somers in a whisper to
his companion. "Whatever is in the wind, whatever may be the cause of
your father's trouble, they are concerned in it. They are probably
getting money from him in some way."
"Do you think so?"
"I do. We must not force ourselves upon your father's confidence, but
we must endeavour to save him from this misery. Do you go in to him
with this card. Do not show it to him too suddenly; and then find out
whether he really wishes to see the man. I will stay about the place;
for it may be possible that a magistrate will be wanted, and in such
a matter you had better not act."
They were now at the hall-door, and Somers, turning to Mollett, told
him that Mr. Herbert Fitzgerald would carry the card to his father.
And then he added, seeing that Mollett was going to come down, "You
had better stay in the gig till Mr. Fitzgerald comes back; just sit
where you are; you'll get an answer all in good time."
Sir Thomas was crouching over the fire in his study when his son
entered, with his eyes fixed upon a letter which he held in his hand,
and which, when he saw Herbert, he closed up and put away.
"Father," said Herbert, in a cheerful every-day voice, as though he
had nothing special to communicate, "there is a man in a gig out
there. He says he wants to see you."
"A man in a gig!" and Herbert could see that his father had already
begun to tremble. But every sound made him tremble now.
"Yes; a man in a gig. What is it he says his name is? I have his card
here. A young man."
"Oh, a young man?" said Sir Thomas.
"Yes, here it is. Abraham Mollett. I can't say that your friend seems
to be very respectable, in spite of his gig," and Herbert handed the
card to his father.
The son purposely looked away as he mentioned the name, as his great
anxiety was not to occasion distress. But he felt that the sound of
the word had been terrible in his father's ears. Sir Thomas had risen
from his chair; but he now sat down again, or rather fell into it.
But nevertheless he took the card, and said that he would see the
man.
"A young man do you say, Herbert?"
"Yes, father, a young man. And, father, if you are not well, tell me
what the business is and let me see him."
But Sir Thomas persisted, shaking his head, and saying that he would
see the man himself.
"Somers is out there. Will you let him do it?"
"No. I wonder, Herbert, that you can tease me so. Let the man be sent
in here. But, oh, Herbert--Herbert--!"
The young man rushed round and kneeled at his father's knee. "What is
it, father? Why will you not tell me? I know you have some grief, and
cannot you trust me? Do you not know that you can trust me?"
"My poor boy, my poor boy!"
"What is it, father? If this man here is concerned in it, let me see
him."
"No, no, no."
"Or at any rate let me be with you when he is here. Let me share your
trouble if I can do nothing to cure it."
"Herbert, my darling, leave me and send him in. If it be necessary
that you should bear this calamity, it will come upon you soon
enough."
"But I am afraid of this man--for your sake, father."
"He will do me no harm; let him come to me. But, Herbert, say nothing
to Somers about this. Somers has not seen the man; has he?"
"Yes; we both spoke to him together as he drove up the avenue."
"And what did he say? Did he say anything?"
"Nothing but that he wanted to see you, and then he gave his card to
Mr. Somers. Mr. Somers wished to save you from the annoyance."
"Why should it annoy me to see any man? Let Mr. Somers mind his
own business. Surely I can have business of my own without his
interference." With this Herbert left his father, and returned to the
hall-door to usher in Mr. Mollett junior.
"Well?" said Mr. Somers, who was standing by the hall fire, and who
joined Herbert at the front door.
"My father will see the man."
"And have you learned who he is?"
"I have learned nothing but this--that Sir Thomas does not wish that
we should inquire. Now, Mr. Mollett, Sir Thomas will see you; so you
can come down. Make haste now, and remember that you are not to stay
long, for my father is ill." And then leading Aby through the hall
and along a passage, he introduced him into Sir Thomas's room.
"And Herbert--" said the father; whereupon Herbert again turned
round. His father was endeavouring to stand, but supporting himself
by the back of his chair. "Do not disturb me for half an hour; but
come to me then, and knock at the door. This gentleman will have done
by that time."
"If we do not put a stop to this, your father will be in a mad-house
or on his death-bed before long." So spoke Mr. Somers in a low,
solemn whisper when Herbert again joined him at the hall-door.
"Sit down, sir; sit down," said Sir Thomas, endeavouring to be civil
and to seem at his ease at the same time. Aby was himself so much
bewildered for the moment, that he hardly perceived the embarrassment
under which the baronet was labouring.
Aby sat down, in the way usual to such men in such places, on the
corner of his chair, and put his hat on the ground between his feet.
Then he took out his handkerchief and blew his nose, and after that
he expressed an opinion that he was in the presence of Sir Thomas
Fitzgerald.
"And you are Mr. Abraham Mollett," said Sir Thomas.
"Yes, Sir Thomas, that's my name. I believe, Sir Thomas, that you
have the pleasure of some slight acquaintance with my father, Mr.
Matthew Mollett?"
What a pleasure under such circumstances! Sir Thomas, however, nodded
his head, and Aby went on.
"Well, now, Sir Thomas, business is business; and my father, 'e ain't
a good man of business. A gen'leman like you, Sir Thomas, has seen
that with 'alf an eye, I know." And then he waited a moment for an
answer; but as he got none he proceeded.
"My governor's one of the best of fellows going, but 'e ain't sharp
and decisive. Sharp's the word now a days, Sir Thomas; ain't it?" and
he spoke this in a manner so suited to the doctrine which he intended
to inculcate, that the poor old gentleman almost jumped up in his
chair.
And Aby, seeing this, seated himself more comfortably in his own. The
awe which the gilt bindings of the books and the thorough comfort of
the room had at first inspired was already beginning to fade away. He
had come there to bully, and though his courage had failed him for a
moment under the stern eye of Mr. Somers, it quickly returned to him
now that he was able to see how weak was his actual victim.
"Sharp's the word, Sir Thomas; and my governor, 'e ain't sharp--not
sharp as he ought to be in such a matter as this. This is what I
calls a real bit of cheese. Now it's no good going on piddling and
peddling in such a case as this; is it now, Sir Thomas?"
Sir Thomas muttered something, but it was no more than a groan.
"Not the least use," continued Aby. "Now the question, as I takes it,
is this. There's your son there as fetched me in 'ere; a fine young
gen'leman 'e is, as ever I saw; I will say that. Well, now; who's to
have this 'ere property when you walk the plank--as walk it you must
some day, in course? Is it to be this son of yours, or is it to be
this other Fitzgerald of 'Appy 'Ouse? Now, if you ask me, I'm all for
your son, though maybe he mayn't be all right as regards the dam."
There was certainly some truth in what Aby had said with reference to
his father. Mr. Mollett senior had never debated the matter in terms
sharp and decisive as these were. Think who they were of whom this
brute was talking to that wretched gentleman; the wife of his bosom,
than whom no wife was ever more dearly prized; the son of his love,
the centre of all his hopes, the heir of his wealth--if that might
still be so. And yet he listened to such words as these, and did not
call in his servants to turn the speaker of them out of his doors.
"I've no wish for that 'Appy 'Ouse man, Sir Thomas; not the least.
And as for your good lady, she's nothing to me one way or the
other--whatever she may be to my governor--" and here there fell
a spasm upon the poor man's heart, which nearly brought him from
the chair to the ground; but, nevertheless, he still contained
himself--"my governor's former lady, my own mother," continued Aby,
"whom I never see'd, she'd gone to kingdom come, you know, before
that time, Sir Thomas. There hain't no doubt about that. So you
see--" and hereupon he dropped his voice from the tone which he had
hitherto been using to an absolute whisper, and drawing his chair
close to that of the baronet, and putting his hands upon his knees,
brought his mouth close to his companion's ear--"So you see," he
said, "when that youngster was born, Lady F. was Mrs. M.--wasn't she?
and for the matter of that, Lady F. is Mrs. M. to this very hour.
That's the real chat; ain't it, Sir Thomas? My stepmother, you know.
The governor could take her away with him to-morrow if he chose,
according to the law of the land--couldn't he now?"
There was no piddling or peddling about this at any rate. Old Mollett
in discussing the matter with his victim had done so by hints and
inuendos, through long windings, by signs and the dropping of a few
dark words. He had never once mentioned in full terms the name of
Lady Fitzgerald; had never absolutely stated that he did possess or
ever had possessed a wife. It had been sufficient for him to imbue
Sir Thomas with the knowledge that his son Herbert was in great
danger as to his heritage. Doubtless the two had understood each
other; but the absolute naked horror of the surmised facts had been
kept delicately out of sight. But such delicacy was not to Aby's
taste. Sharp, short, and decisive; that was his motto. No "longæ
ambages" for him. The whip was in his hand, as he thought, and he
could best master the team by using it.
And yet Sir Thomas lived and bore it. As he sat there half stupefied,
numbed as it were by the intensity of his grief, he wondered at his
own power of endurance. "She is Mrs. M., you know; ain't she now?" He
could sit there and hear that, and yet live through it. So much he
could do, and did do; but as for speaking, that was beyond him.
Young Mollett thought that this "freshening up of the old gentleman"
seemed to answer; so he continued. "Yes, Sir Thomas, your son's my
favourite, I tell you fairly. But then, you know, if I backs the
favourite, in course I likes to win upon him. How is it to be, now?"
and then he paused for an answer, which, however, was not
forthcoming.
"You see you haven't been dealing quite on the square with the
governor. You two is, has it were, in a boat together. We'll call
that boat the Lady F., or the Mrs. M., which ever you like;"--and
then Aby laughed, for the conceit pleased him--"but the hearnings of
that boat should be divided hequally. Ain't that about the ticket?
heh, Sir Thomas? Come, don't be down on your luck. A little quiet
talkee-talkee between you and me'll soon put this small matter on a
right footing."
"What is it you want? tell me at once," at last groaned the poor man.
"Well now, that's something like; and I'll tell you what we want.
There are only two of us you know, the governor and I; and very
lonely we are, for it's a sad thing for a man to have the wife of his
bosom taken from him."
Then there was a groan which struck even Aby's ear; but Sir Thomas
was still alive and listening, and so he went on.
"This property here, Sir Thomas, is a good twelve thousand a year. I
know hall about it as though I'd been 'andling it myself for the last
ten years. And a great deal of cutting there is in twelve thousand
a year. You've 'ad your whack out of it, and now we wants to have
hourn. That's Henglish, hain't it?"
"Did your father send you here, Mr. Mollett?"
"Never you mind who sent me, Sir Thomas. Perhaps he did, and perhaps
he didn't. Perhaps I came without hany sending. Perhaps I'm more
hup to this sort of work than he is. At any rate, I've got the part
pretty well by 'eart--you see that, don't you? Well, hour hultimatum
about the business is this. Forty thousand pounds paid down on the
nail, half to the governor, and half to your 'umble servant, before
the end of this year; a couple of thousand more in hand for the
year's hexpenses--and--and--a couple of hundred or so now at once
before I leave you; for to tell the truth we're run huncommonly dry
just at the present moment." And then Aby drew his breath and paused
for an answer.
Poor Sir Thomas was now almost broken down. His head swam round and
round, and he felt that he was in a whirlpool from which there was no
escape. He had heard the sum named, and knew that he had no power of
raising it. His interest in the estate was but for his life, and that
life was now all but run out. He had already begun to feel that his
son must be sacrificed, but he had struggled and endured in order
that he might save his wife. But what could he do now? What further
struggle could he make? His present most eager desire was that that
horrid man should be removed from his hearing and his eyesight.
But Aby had not yet done: he had hitherto omitted to mention one not
inconsiderable portion of the amicable arrangement which, according
to him, would have the effect of once more placing the two families
comfortably on their feet. "There's one other pint, Sir Thomas," he
continued, "and hif I can bring you and your good lady to my way of
thinking on that, why, we may all be comfortable for all that is come
and gone. You've a daughter Hemmeline."
"What!" said Sir Thomas, turning upon him; for there was still so
much of life left in him that he could turn upon his foe when he
heard his daughter's name thus polluted.
"Has lovely a gal to my way of thinking as my heyes ever rested on;
and I'm not haccounted a bad judge of such cattle, I can tell you,
Sir Thomas."
"That will do, that will do," said Sir Thomas, attempting to rise,
but still holding on by the back of his chair. "You can go now, sir;
I cannot hear more from you."
"Go!"
"Yes, sir; go."
"I know a trick worth two of that, Sir Thomas. If you like to give
me your daughter Hemmeline for my wife, whatever her fortin's to be,
I'll take it as part of my half of the forty thousand pounds. There
now." And then Aby again waited for a reply.
But now there came a knock at the door, and following quick upon the
knock Herbert entered the room. "Well, father," said the son.
"Herbert!"
"Yes, father;" and he went round and supported his father on his arm.
"Herbert, will you tell that man to go?"
"Come, sir, you have disturbed my father enough; will you have the
kindness to leave him now?"
"I may chance to disturb him more, and you too, sir, if you treat me
in that way. Let go my arm, sir. Am I to have any answer from you,
Sir Thomas?"
But Sir Thomas could make no further attempt at speaking. He was now
once more seated in his chair, holding his son's hand, and when he
again heard Mollett's voice he merely made a sign for him to go.
"You see the state my father is in, Mr. Mollett," said Herbert; "I do
not know what is the nature of your business, but whatever it may be,
you must leave him now." And he made a slight attempt to push the
visitor towards the door.
"You'd better take care what you're doing, Mr. Fitzgerald," said
Mollett. "By ---- you had! If you anger me, I might say a word that
I couldn't unsay again, which would put you into queer street, I can
tell you."
"Don't quarrel with him, my boy; pray don't quarrel with him, but let
him leave me," said Sir Thomas.
"Mr. Mollett, you see my father's state; you must be aware that it is
imperative that he should be left alone."
"I don't know nothing about that, young gen'leman; business is
business, and I hain't got hany answer to my proposals. Sir Thomas,
do you say 'Yes' to them proposals." But Sir Thomas was still dumb.
"To all but the last? Come," continued Aby, "that was put in quite as
much for your good as it was for mine." But not a word came from the
baronet.
"Then I shan't stir," said Aby, again seating himself.
"Then I shall have the servants in," said Herbert, "and a magistrate
who is in the hall;" and he put his hand towards the handle of the
bell.
"Well, as the old gen'leman's hill, I'll go now and come again. But
look you here, Sir Thomas, you have got my proposals, and if I don't
get an answer to them in three days' time,--why you'll hear from me
in another way, that's all. And so will her ladyship." And with this
threat Mr. Abraham Mollett allowed himself to be conducted through
the passage into the hall, and from thence to his gig.
"See that he drives away; see that he goes," said Herbert to Mr.
Somers, who was still staying about the place.
"Oh, I'll drive away fast enough," said Aby, as he stepped into the
gig, "and come back fast enough too," he muttered to himself. In the
mean time Herbert had run back to his father's room.
"Has he gone?" murmured Sir Thomas.
"Yes, he has gone. There; you can hear the wheels of his gig on the
gravel."
"Oh, my boy, my poor boy!"
"What is it, father? Why do you not tell me? Why do you allow such
men as that to come and harass you, when a word would keep them from
you? Father, good cannot come of it."
"No, Herbert, no; good will not come of it. There is no good to come
at all."
"Then why will you not tell us?"
"You will know it all soon enough. But Herbert, do not say a word to
your mother. Not a word as you value my love. Let us save her while
we can. You promise me that."
Herbert gave him the required promise.
"Look here," and he took up the letter which he had before crumpled
in his hand. "Mr. Prendergast will be here next week. I shall tell
everything to him."
Soon afterwards Sir Thomas went to his bed, and there by his bedside
his wife sat for the rest of the evening. But he said no word to her
of his sorrow.
"Mr. Prendergast is coming here," said Herbert to Mr. Somers.
"I am glad of it, though I do not know him," said Mr. Somers. "For,
my dear boy, it is necessary that there should be some one here."