Worthy reader, you are neither weak of purpose nor undecided in action;
as little are you easily moved by soft influences, when aided by long
eyelashes. But had you been so, it would have been no difficult effort
for you to comprehend the state of mind in which Captain Martin repaired
to his room to make preparation for his journey. There was a kind of
half chivalry in his present purpose that nerved and supported him. It
was like a knight-errant of old setting out to confront a peril at the
behest of his lady-love; but against this animating conviction there
arose that besetting sin of small minds,--a sense of distrust,--a
lurking suspicion that he might be, all this while, nothing but the dupe
of a very artful woman.
“Who can tell,” said he to himself, “what plan she may have in all this,
or what object she may propose to herself in getting _me_ out of the
way? I don't think she really cares one farthing about the distress of
these people, supposing it all to be true; and as to the typhus fever
and cholera, egad! if they be there, one ought to think twice before
rushing into the midst of them. And then, again, what do I know about
the country or its habits? I have no means of judging if it be poorer or
sicklier or; more wretched than usual. To _my_ eyes, it always seemed
at the lowest depth of want and misery; every one went half starved and
more than half naked. I 'm sure there is no necessity for my going some
few hundred and odd miles to refresh my memory on this pleasant fact;
and yet this is precisely what I 'm about to do. Is it by way of trying
her power over me? By Jove, I 've hit it!” cried he, suddenly, as he
stopped arranging a mass of letters which he was reducing to order
before his departure. “That's her game; there's no doubt of it! She
has said to herself, 'This will prove him. If he do this at my bidding,
he'll do more.' Ay, but will he, mademoiselle? that's the question. A
young hussar may turn out to be a very old soldier. What if I were just
to tell her so. Girls of her stamp like a man all the better when he
shows himself to be wide-awake. I 'd lay a fifty on it she 'll care more
for me when she sees I 'm her own equal in shrewdness. And, after all,
why should _I_ go? I could send my valet, Fletcher,--just the kind of
fellow for such a mission,--never knew the secret he could n't worm out;
there never was a bit of barrack scandal he did n't get to the bottom
of. He 'd be back here within a fortnight, with the whole state of the
case, and I'll be bound there will be no humbugging _him_.”
This bright idea was not, however, without its share of detracting
reflections, for what became of all that personal heroism on which he
reposed such hope, if the danger were to be encountered by deputy? This
was a puzzle, not the less that he had not yet made up his mind whether
he 'd really be in love with Kate Henderson, or only involve _her_ in an
unfortunate attachment for _him_. While he thus pondered and hesitated,
strewing his room with the contents of drawers and cabinets, by way of
aiding the labor of preparation, his door was suddenly opened, and Mr.
Merl made his appearance. Although dressed with all his habitual regard
to effect, and more than an ordinary display of chains and trinkets,
that gentleman's aspect betokened trouble and anxiety; at least, there
was a certain restlessness in his eye that Martin well understood as an
evidence of something wrong within.
“Are you getting ready for a journey, Captain?” asked he, as he entered.
“I was thinking of it; but I believe I shall not go. I 'm undecided.”
“Up the Rhine?”
“No; not in that direction.”
“South,--towards Italy, perhaps?”
“Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England.”
“We should be on the road together,” said Merl. “I'm off by four
o'clock.”
“How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?”
“There's going to be a crash here,” said Merl, speaking in a lower tone.
“The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and
there's mischief brewing.”
“Are you sure of this?” asked Martin.
“Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four
and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and
will be forty to-morrow. The day after--” Here Mr. Merl made a motion
with his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
“You're a heavy loser, then?” asked Martin, eagerly.
“I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just
on that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and
must turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,--some of them at
least,--and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of
and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a
portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value--”
“_You_ told me, sir,” said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in, “when
I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own hands,
and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them.”
“I suppose, Captain, you gave them for something; you did not make a
present of them,” said the Jew, coloring slightly.
“If I did not make a present of them,” rejoined Martin, “the transaction
was about as profitable to me.”
“You owed me the money, sir; that, at least, is the way I regard the
matter.”
“And when I paid it by these securities, you pledged yourself not to
negotiate them. I explained to you how the entail was settled,--that the
property must eventually be mine,--and you accepted the arrangement on
these conditions.”
“All true, Captain; but nobody told me, at that time, there was going
to be a revolution in Paris,--which there will be within forty-eight
hours.”
“Confounded fool that I was to trust the fellow!” said Martin to
himself, but quite loud enough to be heard; then turning to Merl, he
said, “What do you mean by converting them into cash? Are you about to
sell part of our estate?”
“Nothing of the kind, Captain,” said Merl, smiling at the innocence of
the question. “I am simply going to deposit these where I can obtain
an advance upon them. I promise you, besides, it shall not be in any
quarter by which the transaction can reach the ears of your family.
This assurance will, I trust, satisfy _you_, and entitle _me_ to the
information I ask for.”
“What information do you allude to?” asked Martin, who had totally
forgotten what the Jew announced as the reason of his visit.
“I asked you, Captain,” said Merl, resuming the mincing softness of
his usual manner, “as to which of these securities might be the more
eligible for immediate negotiation?”
“And how should I know, sir?” replied the other, rudely. “I am very
little acquainted with the property itself; I know still less about the
kind of dealings you speak of. It does not concern me in the least
what you do, or how you do it. I believe I may have given you bonds for
something very like double the amount of all you ever advanced to me.
I hear of nothing from my father but the immense resources of this, and
the great capabilities of that; but as these same eventualities are
not destined to better _my_ condition, I have not troubled my head to
remember anything about them. You have a claim of about twenty thousand
against me.”
“Thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-eight pounds,” said the
Jew, reading from a small note-book which he had just taken from his
waistcoat pocket.
“That is some ten thousand more than ever I heard of,” said Martin, with
an hysterical sort of laugh. “Egad, Merl, the fellows were right that
would not have you in the 'Cercle.' You 'd have 'cleared every man of
them out,'--as well let a ferret into a rabbit warren.”
“I was n't aware,--I had not heard that I was put up--”
“To be sure you were; in all form proposed, seconded, and duly
blackballed. I own to you, I thought it very hard, very illiberal. There
are plenty of fellows there that have no right to be particular; and so
Jack Massingbred as much as told them. The fact is, Merl, you ought to
have waited awhile, and by the time that Harlowe and Spencer Cavendish
and a few more such were as deep in your books as I am, you 'd have had
a walk over. Willoughby says the same. It might have cost you something
smart, but you 'd have made it pay in the end,--eh, Merl?”
To this speech, uttered in a strain of jocular impertinence, Merl made
no reply. He had just torn one of his gloves in pieces in the effort
to draw it on, and he was busily exerting himself to get rid of the
fragments.
“Lady Dorothea had given me a card for you for Saturday,” resumed the
Captain; “but as you 're going away--Besides, after this defeat at
the Club, you could n't well come amongst all these people; so there's
nothing for it but patience, Merl, patience--”
“A lesson that may be found profitable to others, perhaps,” said the
Jew, with one of his furtive looks at the Captain, who quailed under it
at once.
“I was going to give you a piece of advice, Merl,” said he, in a tone
the very opposite to his late bantering one. “It was, that you should
just take a run over to Ireland yourself, and see the property.”
“I mean to do so, Captain Martin,” said the other, calmly.
“I can't offer you letters, for they would defeat what you desire to
accomplish; besides, there is no member of the family there at present
but a young lady-cousin of mine.”
“Just the kind of introduction I 'd like,” said the Jew, with all the
zest of a man glad to say what he knew would be deemed an impertinence.
Martin grew crimson with suppressed anger, but never spoke a word.
“Is this the Cousin Mary I have heard you speak of,” said Merl,--“the
great horsewoman, and she that ventures out alone on the Atlantic in a
mere skiff?”
Martin nodded. His temper was almost an overmatch for him, and he dared
not trust himself to speak.
“I should like to see her amazingly, Captain,” resumed Merl.
“Remember, sir, you have no lien upon _her_,” said Martin, sternly.
The Jew smirked and ran his fingers through his hair with the air of one
who deemed such an eventuality by no means so very remote.
“Do you know, Master Merl,” said Martin, staring at him from head
to foot with an expression the reverse of complimentary, “I 'm half
disposed to give you a few lines to my cousin; and if you 'll not take
the thing as a _mauvais plaisanterie_ on my part, I will do so.”. “Quite
the contrary, Captain. I 'll deem it a great favor, indeed,” said Merl,
with an admirable affectation of unconsciousness.
“Here goes, then,” said Martin, sitting down to a table, and preparing
his writing materials, while in a hurried hand he began:--
“'Dear Cousin Mary,--This will introduce to you Mr. Herman Merl, who
visits your remote regions on a tour of----What shall I say?”
“Pleasure,--amusement,” interposed Merl.
“No, when I _am_ telling a fib, I like a big one,--I 'll say,
philanthropy, Merl; and there's nothing so well adapted to cover those
secret investigations you are bent upon,--a tour of philanthropy.
“'You will, I am sure, lend him all possible assistance in his
benevolent object,--the same being to dispose of the family acres,--and
at the same time direct his attention to whatever may be matter of
interest,--whether mines, quarries, or other property easily convertible
into cash,--treating him in all respects as one to whom I owe many
obligations--and several thousand pounds.'
“Will that do, think you?”
“Perfectly; nothing better.”
“In return, I shall ask one favor at your hands,” said Martin, as
he folded and addressed the epistle. “It is that you write me a full
account of what you see in the West,--how the country looks, and the
people. Of course it will all seem terribly poor and destitute, and all
that sort of thing, to your eyes; but just try and find out if it be
worse than usual. Paddy is such a shrewd fellow, Merl, that it will
require all your own sharpness not to be taken in by him. A long letter
full of detail--a dash of figures in it--as to how many sheep have the
rot, or how many people have caught the fever, will improve it,--you
know the kind of thing I mean; and--I don't suppose you care about
shooting, yourself, but you 'll get some one to tell you--are the birds
plenty and in good condition. There's a certain Mr. Scanlan, if you
chance upon him; he 's up to everything, and not a bad performer at
dummy whist,--though I think _you_ could teach him a thing or two.” Merl
smiled and tried to look flattered, while the other went on: “And there
's another, called Henderson,--the steward,--a very shrewd person,--but
_you_ don't need all these particulars; you may be trusted to your own
good guidance,--eh, Merl?”
Merl again smiled in the same fashion as before; in fact, so completely
had he resumed the bland expression habitual to him, that the
Captain almost forgot the unpleasant cause of his visit, and all the
disagreeable incidents of the interview.
“You could n't give me a few lines to this Mr. Scanlan?” asked Merl,
with an air of easy indifference.
“Nothing easier,” cried the Captain, reseating himself; then suddenly
rising, with the expression of one to whom a sudden thought had just
crossed the mind, “Wait one second for me here, Merl; I'll be back with
you at once.” And as he spoke he dashed out of the room, and hastened to
his father.
“By a rare piece of luck,” cried he, as he entered, “I 've just chanced
upon the very fellow we want; an acquaintance I picked up at the
Cape,--up to everything; he goes over to Ireland to-night, and he 'll
take a run down to Cro' Martin, and send us his report of all he sees.
Whatever he tells us may be relied upon; for, depend upon 't, no lady
can humbug _him_. I 've just given him a note for Mary, and I 'll write
a few lines also by way of introducing him to Scanlan.”
Martin could barely follow the Captain, as with rapid utterance he
poured forth this plan. “Do I know him? What's his name?” asked he at
last.
“You never saw him. His name is Merl,--Herman Merl,--a fellow of
considerable wealth; a great speculator,--one of those Stock Exchange
worthies who never deal in less than tens of thousands. He has a
crotchet in his head about buying up half the West of Ireland,--some
scheme about flax and the deep-sea fishery. I don't understand it, but
I suppose _he_ does. At all events, he has plenty of money, and the head
to make it fructify; and if he only take a liking to it, he 's the very
fellow to buy up Kilkieran, and the islands, and the rest of that waste
district you were telling me of t'other night. But I must n't detain
him. He starts at four o'clock; and I only ran over here to tell you not
to worry yourself any more about Mary's letter. He 'll look to it all.”
And with this consolatory assurance the Captain hastened away, leaving
Martin as much relieved in mind as an indolent nature and an easy
conscience were sure to make him. To get anybody “to look to” anything
had been his whole object in life; to know that, whatever happened,
there was always somebody who misstated this, or neglected that, at
whose door all the culpability--where there was such--could be laid
and but for whom he had himself performed miracles of energy and
devotedness, and endured all the tortures and trials of a martyr. He
was, indeed, as are a great many others in this world, an excellent man
to his own heart,--kind, charitable, and affectionate; a well-wisher
to his kind, and hopeful of almost every one; but, all this while, his
virtues, like a miser's gold, had no circulation; they remained locked
up within him for his own use alone, and there he sat, counting them
over and gazing at them, speculating upon all that this affluence could
do, and--never doing it!
Life abounds with such men. They win respect while they live, and white
marble records their virtues when they die! Nor are they all useless.
Their outward bearing at least simulates whatever we revere in good men,
and we accept them in the same spirit of compromise as we take stucco
for stone; if they do no more, they show our appreciation of the “real
article.”
The Captain was not long in inditing a short note to Scanlan, to whom,
“strictly confidential,” Mr. Merl was introduced as a great capitalist
and speculator, desirous to ascertain all the resources of the land.
Scanlan was enjoined to show him every attention, making his visit in
all respects as agreeable as possible.
“This fellow will treat you well, Merl,” said the Captain, as he folded
the letter; “will give you the best salmon you ever tasted, and a glass
of Gordon's Madeira such as few could sport now-a-days. And if you
have a fancy for a day with my Cousin Mary's hounds, he 'll mount you
admirably, and show you the way besides.” And with this speech Martin
wished him good-bye; and closing the door after him, added, “And if
he'll kindly assist you to a broken neck, it's about the greatest
service he could render me!”
The laugh, silly and meaningless, that followed his utterance of this
speech, showed that it was spoken in all the listlessness of one who had
not really character enough to be even a “good hater.”