THE COUNCIL OF WAR.
On the second morning after our arrival at the Dovecot, Mr. Long called
me into the dining-room, where I found Mr. Gerard and a third gentleman,
who had come down by the night-mail, as I understood, from London.
Although, I should think, not less than seventy years of age, he was
dressed in the height of the then prevailing mode. He wore a
snuff-coloured coat, the tails of which trailed from his chair upon the
ground, whenever he was so fortunate as not to be sitting upon them; the
brass buttons at his back were nearly as large as the handles of an
ordinary chest of drawers. A bunch of seals, each about the size of
that peculiar to the Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain, dangled from
his fob. His pantaloons, which seemed to have shrunk in the washing, set
off a pair of legs that were still not uncomely; but what was most
remarkable was an enormous muslin cravat, which, in combination with the
ruffles of his shirt, gave him the aspect of a pouter pigeon.
Unaccustomed as I then was to the toilet of persons of distinction, Mr.
Clint of Russell Square--for he it was--made a very strong impression
upon me. As the family lawyer of the Heaths, and one who had always
greatly interested himself in Marmaduke, he had been sent for by my
tutor to give his opinion as to what steps should be taken respecting
the future disposal of the poor lad. I guessed by his grave face that he
had been put in possession, not only of all that had happened through
the agency of Sir Massingberd, but of all that had been designed to
happen.
"If you have any doubt still remaining, Mr. Clint, as to the propriety
of removing Marmaduke Heath from the custody of his uncle," observed my
tutor, after introducing me to this venerable beau, "I think this
gentleman can dissipate it. Now, Peter, tell us, in confidence, what
sort of footing do you consider your young friend and Sir Massingberd to
stand upon; are they good--"
"Stop, stop, Mr. Long," interrupted the lawyer, taking an enormous pinch
of snuff from a silver-box, and holding up his laden fingers in a
prohibitory manner; "we must not have any leading questions if you
please. Mr. Meredith, it is most important that you state to us the
truth, without mitigation or exaggeration. You heard your tutor's first
inquiry, which was a most correct one. How does Mr. Marmaduke Heath
stand with respect to his uncle?"
"Well, sir," said I quietly, "he stands, as it were, upon the brink of a
deep river, with his back towards a person who is bent upon pushing him
in."
A total silence ensued upon this remark. Mr. Long and Mr. Gerard
interchanged very meaning glances.
"Very good," returned the lawyer coolly, administering half the snuff to
his nose, and dropping the other half among his shirt-ruffles. "That is
a form of speech, I suppose, by which you would imply that Marmaduke is
afraid of his uncle?"
"Very much," said I; "afraid of his life."
"And you have had no previous conversation upon this subject with either
of these gentlemen, that is--you must forgive me if I press this
somewhat hardly--they have never asked your opinion on the matter
before?"
"Certainly not, sir."
"You are speaking, too, I conclude from your own observation of course,
from your own knowledge of Mr. Marmaduke Heath's sentiments and
position, and not from any hearsay rumour?"
"I am perfectly convinced, Mr. Clint," returned I gravely, "that Sir
Massingberd Heath wishes to get rid of his nephew, and that Marmaduke
knows it."
"Then Sir Massingberd shall be gratified," observed Mr. Gerard, with
energy; "he shall get rid of him from this day."
"Stop, stop, my dear sir," interposed the lawyer. "Even supposing that
all this is true, both the facts that I have received from you and Mr.
Long, and the surmises entertained by this young gentleman, we are
still only at the threshold of the matter. From the manner in which Sir
Massingberd expressed himself when he wrote to me to demand the custody
of the boy, and from his whole conduct since, I am certain that he will
not give up his position as guardian without a severe struggle. We must
steadily look our difficulties in the face. Supposing that, having been
assured of Marmaduke's convalescence, he should send a post-chaise over
here next week, or the week after, with a note, insisting upon his
immediate return to Fairburn Park, what is to be done then?"
"I should send the post-chaise back again," returned Mr. Gerard, calmly,
"with the verbal reply, that Mr. Marmaduke was not coming."
"But suppose he wrote to Marmaduke himself?"
"The reply would come from me all the same, Mr. Clint."
"But if Sir Massingberd appeals to the law?"
"He dare not!" exclaimed my host; "his audacity, great as it is, stops
short of that. If he did, as sure as the sun is shining, I would meet
him with the charge of attempted murder."
Mr. Clint took out of his other coat-tail a second snuff-box, which he
never made use of except in cases of great emergency. "You are prepared
to go that length, are you?"
"I am, sir," returned Mr. Gerard, firmly.
"You have not a shadow of foundation for such an assertion," pursued Mr.
Clint, reflectively. "The slander will be pronounced malicious; you will
be cast in swingeing damages."
"That is possible," remarked my host; "but there, nevertheless, will be
such revelations of Sir Massingberd's mode of life, as may well cause
the chancellor to reflect whether Fairburn Hall is a fitting educational
establishment for a minor."
"John Lord Eldon is not an ascetic--"
"I know it, sir;" broke forth Mr. Gerard; "I am well aware that he is a
heartless scoundrel, as dissipated, as dishonest, and--"
"Sir," interrupted Mr. Clint, with irritation. "I will not listen to
such mad words. You may utter them, of course, in your own house, but
not to me. This is the talk of those who would subvert all authority."
"They are not afraid to speak evil of dignities," murmured my tutor.
"I do not speak evil of dignities, my dear sir, but only of the rogues
who fill them," exclaimed Mr. Gerard, laughing. "However, I beg your
pardon, gentlemen; the remark escaped me quite involuntarily. You are
aware, Mr. Clint, that my Lord Eldon is not absolutely an ascetic."
"I was about to say, sir," observed the old lawyer stiffly, "that his
lordship is not so tenderly alive to the necessity of moral training as
some of his friends would wish, and he has a strong respect for natural
authority. He would lean, therefore, towards Sir Massingberd's view of
the question--with whom; indeed, he is personally not unacquainted--and
be induced to palliate his way of life."
"Sadder than orphans, yet not fatherless, are those in Eldon's charge,"
murmured Mr. Gerard. "Still," continued he, in a louder tone, "the
charge of attempted murder, Mr. Clint, would have this effect, that even
if Marmaduke were reconsigned to his uncle's care--which Heaven
forbid--the eyes of the world would be upon Sir Massingberd, and he
would not venture to work him a mischief. In the meantime, it rests with
us to take good care that he has not the chance of doing so."
"And now," resumed Mr. Clint, after a pause, "supposing that all is
arranged thus far to repel Sir Massingberd's claims, there is another
matter to be considered. It would take long to explain the details of
the case, but you must understand that the Heath property is very
peculiarly situated. Sir Massingberd, who is in the enjoyment of it for
life, cannot raise a shilling upon it; while Marmaduke does not possess
a shilling, although the prospective heir of such vast wealth. They
would be, in short, at present a couple of beggars; but by a special
arrangement with a certain person, whom I need not name, a small annual
sum has been allotted for the benefit of the boy, but, practically,
quite as much so for that of his uncle. A certain annuity, I say, is
paid to Sir Massingberd for the maintenance of his nephew, and another,
solely on the latter's behalf, for that of the estate. It is a most
beautifully intricate affair from first to last," pursued the lawyer
with unction; "here are two relatives, who mutually support one another,
and have yet every reason, looking at the matter in a rather worldly way
of course, to wish each other dead. Sir Massingberd could borrow plenty
of money, if the usurers were only confident that he could, as well as
would, make away with his nephew. There would be even less difficulty
under ordinary circumstances in procuring a loan for Marmaduke; but a
delicate boy, whose uncle and guardian is bent upon putting a violent
end to him--you see that renders the security so very slight.
Altogether, it is certainly one of the nicest cases. It is not only a
question of responsibility; there are always plenty of people ready to
take any amount of <i>that</i> at a sufficient premium; but who will
undertake the pecuniary charge of the lad if he is withdrawn from his
uncle's roof? Sir Massingberd, of course, will never give up one tittle
of the allowance entrusted to him to expend, except upon such compulsion
as we should scarcely venture to employ. There are three years wanting
to the boy's majority; and even when he has arrived at that, and should
be willing to promise ample repayment, he may die before his uncle
still, who has a constitution of adamant, when those who have maintained
him may whistle for the money they have expended. The expression may be
coarse," added Mr. Clint apologetically, "but I think it conveys my
meaning."
"I thank you, Mr. Clint," observed my tutor, after a little pause, "for
putting this matter before us so bluntly and decidedly. For my part, I
am far from being a rich man; but, on the other hand, there are no
persons who have a better claim upon my resources than my dear young
friend and pupil, Marmaduke Heath. That he will repay me if he survives
his uncle, I am more than assured; and, if he die early, I shall not
regret that the remainder of his young life has been rendered happy
through my means, although it may have cost me a few comforts."
I stooped down and said a few words in my tutor's ear. "No, Peter, no,"
continued he; "you are a good lad, and your father is, doubtless,
generous enough to comply with your wishes; but we must not resort to
such a distant source in this emergency, indeed. Mr. Clint, do you think
that a hundred and forty to a hundred and sixty pounds a year might be
made sufficient to keep Marmaduke with respectability?"
"Half your annual stipend, eh, Mr. Long, eh?" ejaculated the lawyer.
"Bless my soul, how this snuff gets in one's eyes! Such a sum should be
quite sufficient. I think that would be found more than enough. He
cannot live at your rectory, of course; that would be almost as bad as
at the Hall; but there are plenty of spare rooms in my house in town. He
has stayed there before, so that that can be done, we know. Marmaduke
and I are old friends--No, no, it will not hurt me. Such a course cannot
bring me into greater antagonism with Sir Massingberd than I am in
already. I am always at daggers-drawn with him. He is for ever cutting
down trees that don't belong to him, or selling heirlooms that are no
more his than mine, or embroiling himself with me, the appointed
guardian of the property, in some way or other. Yes, I'll take the lad,
Mr. Long, come what will of it."
"You will do nothing of the kind," exclaimed my host, energetically;
"you honest lawyer, and very worthy man; and you, you good
priest--contradictions in terms, both of you--you shall not give away
half your annual stipend, or my name is not Harvey Gerard. I have done
each of you a very grievous wrong in thought, if not in word; and I
hereby beg your pardon. It is possible, I perceive, to be a Tory, and
yet preserve, if not a conscience, at least a heart."
My tutor smiled; Mr. Clint bowed his acknowledgments.
"With regard to Mr. Marmaduke Heath, however," pursued our host, "that
young gentleman must be my especial charge. From this day until the
period when he comes into his property, or lies in need of decent
interment, as the case may be, he is my guest; or, if my house is
distasteful to him, I will advance him whatever sums he may reasonably
require for his maintenance elsewhere. Please to consider that that is
settled, gentlemen."
"Whatever we may think of the political opinions of Mr. Harvey Gerard,"
observed Mr. Clint, with feeling, "his name has always been associated
with acts of matchless generosity."
"Always, always," echoed Mr. Long; then added reflectively, "he has paid
the fines of half the rogues in the country, and bailed the other half
who have been committed to prison."
A simultaneous burst of merriment from his three hearers greeted this
naïve remark of my unconscious tutor.
"I have done so upon one occasion, I confess," replied Mr. Gerard,
good-naturedly. "I became surety, in 1791, for the good behaviour of a
poor Birmingham rioter, as I thought, who turned out to be a Government
spy. However, I assure you, generosity has nothing to do with my present
intentions with respect to young Heath. My income is sufficiently large
to admit of my accommodating the poor lad with ease, even if the
repayment, sooner or later, were not almost certain, as it really is.
But, besides all this, I must confess that the undertaking affords me
exceeding satisfaction. Mr. Long, you are, I have heard, an enthusiastic
fisherman; that is no common pleasure which you feel when your rod is
bowed by some enormous trout, cunning and strong, who may break the
whole of your tackle, and get away, after all, but who also may be
landed helpless on the bank, a victim to your skill and patience. That
is exactly the sport which I promise myself with Sir Massingberd Heath.
If he were one whit less greedy, less formidable, less pitiless, I
should feel less hostility towards him; he has, fortunately, no
redeeming point. I have hated tyranny all my life, and I hate this man,
who seems to be the very embodiment of it. He makes his boast that no
one has ever stood between himself and his wicked will. Let us see what
he will make of Harvey Gerard."
The speaker drew himself up proudly, but certainly not with unbecoming
pride. His form dilated as he spoke; his voice grew deep without losing
its distinctness; and into his mild eyes a sternness crept as when the
frost congeals the lake. But for a spice of haughtiness, which to some
might have appeared even arrogance, he could have stood for St. Michael
in his contest with the foul Fiend,--have personified the Spirit of Good
defying the Spirit of Evil.