STRONG INTENTIONS.
Such a weight came off the heart of good Uncle William, and such a
relief was afforded to his ribs--where the parcel had made a great hole,
as he showed me like the postmaster's stamp on a bonnet-box--that as
soon as he restored his caul to its proper and inborn aptitude of
comfort, he was enabled to be just to another tidy quid, and another
glass of grog, not so very fountain-heady.
"Don't let me see them any more," he said, when he found himself ready
for a bit to eat; "they have buttoned up the locker of my poor stomach,
and I believe that's how I took the fever, to which I was never born
natural. But not a word to your dear mother about them, until I tip the
signal. That old Jew wanted, oh, how he did try, to get these beauties
out of me! He would have given me a thousand pounds apiece for them; and
that proves them to be worth at least ten times as much. Get a fair
opinion about them, my lad; and then lock them away, unless you want the
money."
I could not help admiring the very clever way, in which Uncle William
had encircled the blue stones with the spun wreath of pure gold, as fine
as any hair, quite as if they were a pair of brooches in gold setting.
And this fetched the colour up, or made them show by contrast, with a
lustre, at once very clear and very dark; though both of the crystals
were still in the rough. They were something like a pear in form; which
explains little, for pears are as different in shape as men are. What I
mean is a pear of the variety which the dealers call the "Duchess,"
which tapers less than the Jargonelle, but much more than the Bergamots.
Between the two crystals there was very little difference, in size, or
weight, or colour, each of them turning an ounce in the scales. But much
as I admired them, and could look at them for hours; it did not seem
likely that they could be worth what Uncle William talked about.
Upon this point I determined to consult Professor Megalow, who knew
nearly as much about stones as bones; till I saw in the _Times_ that he
was sent to Egypt, upon some important scientific errand; and then it
occurred to me to ask Sir Roland. Not that he was likely to know
anything about it, but that he might commend me to a skilful and upright
jeweller, such as a family of rank and wealth were likely to have
dealings with.
And even while I was thinking of him, up he rode, in his usual haste,
upon a showy-looking hack; for the Twentifolds had given up their London
establishment, at the death of the previous baronet. With very great
pleasure, I ran down to meet him; for although "Placid Bower" was not
very grand, I knew that he would be well pleased with it, his nature
being very kind, and frank, and hearty. Of course he spoke first, for he
always took the lead.
"Why, Tommy, what a beautiful place you have got! I envy you, my dear
boy, that I do. And such a look out! You can see the Victoria tower, and
read the clock over the bridge with a moderate glass; and on a clear
day, you can see the Derby run. You rogue, you never told me of this
snug shop, the very place for an industrious M.P. And that is what I'm
come about; as well as the pleasure of seeing you, my dear friend, and
your good mother."
"Mother will be home in an hour or two," I said; "and we'll make your
horse comfortable, and you too, I hope. She is gone to see Bill Chumps'
intended, and advise about all the great preparations. He is going to
marry Miss Windsor, who has come into a tidy little lump of
money--£12,125, entirely at her own disposal. But of course, they will
have a settlement."
"Holloa!" he answered; "well that beats me. I thought you were sweet in
that quarter, Master Tommy. But you look very jolly, so I hope it is all
right. Take me into your own den first. I want to have a pipe, and a
chat with you. Well, here we are! Just the sort of place I like. Books
enough to look at, and remind you of past woes; with their backs shown
like scattered enemies. But I don't half like this news of yours. I did
not mean Chumps to get married, for ten years. It takes all the
enterprise out of a man. On the other hand, the cash will be handy for
him, and enable him to apply himself to politics, though not half enough
to live upon. But I have very large ideas in my head. When do they mean
to be made miserable for life?"
"Somewhere this side of Michaelmas, my mother seems to say. They have
long been engaged, though old Chumps would not have it, until her
Godfather discharged responsibilities. You are quite wrong, Roly, in
supposing that I have any call, for a moment, to wear the willow. It is
true that Miss Windsor, and your most obedient, have been very intimate
from tender years, and ever must cherish sweet memories of playing
together in the soapsuds. But she does not approach--she in no way
realizes--she never has been to me more than a bubble."
"Tommy, your metaphor is fine; and (which is a much greater rarity)
appropriate. Now, let us consider how all this bears on the one ambition
of my life, and of every life at all worth living--the kicking of the
Rads off the foul perch they are crowing on. They have made it foul,
mind. It was clean enough, when they hopped up, by cackling, and
flapping their wings, and nudging sideways, as if they meant rather to
go down, than up. All the honest cocks on the top bar took it easy, and
put their heads under their wings, and tucked up one leg, and spread out
the claws of the other; till down they went headlong, tumbling on their
combs at the rush of a cock, who had sworn he would not fight. And fight
he won't now, to preserve his hen's eggs; but only to keep his own perch
to himself, and the few little bantams he allows to come up. Meanwhile,
rats and weasels increase and flourish; not a sound egg of trade is
there left in the nest; and of all the fat chicks of the colonies, not
one is allowed to jump up on the mother's broad back, and practice a
little crow, under her protection. In fact, my dear Tommy, the big cock
of all, having crowed himself up to the top of the roost, has forbidden
every other cock to chuckle in his throat, unless it is in chorus with
him. Meanwhile, his own run is on every side invaded, and his chicks
carried off, and his corn-bin robbed; but all he cares for is to keep
his own perch, and be clucked to, as if he were the only cock on earth."
"I dare say that is all true enough," I answered; "but I don't see how
we are to better it. What can two little cockerels, such as you and I,
do?"
"Tommy, it is that accursed spirit, or want of spirit, that keeps the
pest triumphant. I am a very little cockerel; as you say, and should
bite the dust before the old rooster. Reason and right go down before
him, and all the old principles of patriotism are a mixen for him to
crow on. But why? There have been infinitely finer cocks, who would have
rolled in the dirt, if they had tried to cut such capers. The reason is
simply craven terror, and the want of firm union against him. Truth, and
common sense, and common interests, must prevail in the end; if only
they are backed up against crowing humbug. And it is the first duty of
every one, who cares for his country, to bear his little share in this.
Eloquence, eloquence, is all the cry--unrivalled eloquence, vast
experience, unparalleled powers of mind, and so forth. But all of these
cannot turn black into white, nor prove that we are clean, when they
have dragged us through the mud. We are bad enough now, with our
Country despised, our manufactures ruined, our agriculture bankrupt, our
land worth nothing, our army made an infant-school, and our kingdom rent
in twain; but madness, ten times worse than that, is threatened, and
promised, for the very next Session."
"Well, let us hear the worst of it;" I answered very calmly, being used
to these rodomontades of Sir Roland's, and not having found myself much
the worse yet. "What does the enemy mean to do, next year?"
"You may smile, Tommy. I am afraid you are as bad as the rest; who won't
try to stop the blow, until their backs are broken. What do you think of
these three little measures, out of seven, which the Cabinet propose to
employ the Recess in preparing, and maturing, as they call it? To give
the county franchise to every man who has a dust-bin, or even a dust-pan
if he lives a hundred miles from London. To prohibit landowners from
having any children, after a date to be settled by the Act. To abandon
Malta, Gibraltar, and Aden, and all other places held unjustly, and
surrender the British fleet, and all ships of war now building, to
France, and Russia, and the Irish Land League. A pretty fair programme I
call that."
"And so should I, Roly, if I believed a word of it. But don't carry on
with any more such chaff. Have a glass of good ale, good English malt, a
sound constitutional draught, as you call it. I ordered in a firkin, and
it has just got bright."
"Now, if Englishmen drank this," exclaimed Sir Roland, after a good pull
at the fresh, and freshening beverage, in my silver pot, one of the
many I had earned as coxswain of victorious crews, "if Britons, instead
of whining about their digestions, and sipping the flat sourness of
half-ripened grapes, took a good swig of such hearty stuff as that, very
soon we should be Britons again. The need of the age is good ale, my
Tommy; not the public-house stuff, but the genuine thing, such as every
good brewery can turn out when it likes. The decay of the nation, and
the triumph of the hypocrites date from the difficulty of getting decent
beer. And think of the brotherhood created by good beer. I take a pull,
Tommy, so do you; we look at one another, and we trust one another, and
a mutual warmth goes down into our glad bosoms. Will you get such a
feeling from your sulky glass of claret, or your poisonous artificial
waters, or even the fizz-up-the-nose of your touch-and-go Champagne? No,
my boy. One of my most cherished hopes is to supply the noble
working-man, with a real good article in the way of ale; and then let
him be a Rad, or let him be a Tory--at any rate he will be an Englishman
again. Let us have another pull, to illustrate that sentiment."
I could not help laughing at Sir Roland's warmth, and confidence.
Whatever he said, he had a way of saying, (without gesticulation, or
appearance of excitement) which made at once a short cut into the mind
of any listener. Perhaps because it came so straight, and clear, and
sure, from his own mind; and generally in simple words, which are the
wings of eloquence.
"Now, tell me what you came for, Roly," I said, being tired of politics;
"have you any news from home, or anything of interest to the
beer-quaffing Briton? I don't care twopence about the Government. They
can't do any harm, for six months now."
"Can't they, indeed? Why, that is the very season, when they disgrace us
most of all, without even having to cut the double shuffle, in answer to
any honest question. However, as you don't want any more of that--though
you must be roused up before February--I'll do what I can for you, in
smaller matters. Understand, then, that poor Counterpagne--who ought to
have made a better fight of it; I don't think an old man could have
punished me like that, though I should be devilish sorry to give him
such occasion--he has got no bones broken, any more than you had, when
the rock gave you such a thumping. But it would have been better for
him, if he had; as regards his popularity at our place. My mother won't
go near him; which she must have done, if his damage had been more
dangerous. You know, my darling mother is a little bit sentimental, and
by no means worldly-minded; but the most stubborn of the stubborn, in
her quiet, and very gentle way. She won't argue a point; she will let
one talk for ever, without a word of contradiction; and there her
conviction remains, as unmoved as the table one has been talking over. I
knew by her face, that Sunday evening, that it was all up with
Counterpagne's chance of Laura."
"Thank God!" I cried, for the news was well worth it; and then at his
look of astonishment I said, "Your dear sister, in my opinion, is the
most perfect of all created beings; and I would rather have my eyes put
out, than see her made miserable, by a heartless, selfish, weak-minded,
cold-natured, priggish, and altogether unprincipled fellow, who could
never have the smallest idea of her value."
"You seem to be uncommonly warm about it, Tommy. What has poor
Counterpagne ever done to you? He has his faults, I know; and he is not
a sound Conservative. But he has scarcely enough character, to be so bad
as you suppose him."
"He has a great deal more character, or want of it, than you think. And
now that I can do him no harm with you, I will tell you a thing which I
have kept to myself; though I had a hard job to conceal it from you,
when I saw him continually at your sister's side. Some days before that
Nathan and David business, and the very fine thrashing he received, I
got a letter from an old friend of mine at _Corpus_, which was sent on
to me from this place. And the writer, (without knowing more of Lord
Counterpagne, than that Chumps knew him, and I knew Chumps) said that he
had met him at his Club in London, where he was by no means popular. And
then, at the very time when he was preparing to visit you, and carry on
his courtship, he was living with an actress of very low repute, and had
promised (as she said) to marry her. With that I have nothing to do; and
I know that it is not supposed now to be any harm at all. But I thought
it a low thing, for him to come, fresh from such company, and hold your
sister's hand."
"You are quite right, Tommy; it was a low thing; and no gentleman, who
thought twice, would have done it. And over and above all that, you
know that I have a great contempt for Counterpagne."
"I know that you have. How can you help it? And yet for some trumpery
bits of ground, or some dirty seat in Parliament, you have been eager to
sacrifice the purest, and warmest, and sweetest heart in all the world,
to such a wretch!"
"Tommy, you speak hotly, and a little beyond your business. What makes
you take up this question so intensely?"
Sir Roland looked at me, in such a way, that I resolved to have it out
with him, and sail, or sink, at least under true colours.
"The simple fact," I said, looking full into his eyes, for no man should
frighten me, in a manly business, "that I love your sister, as purely,
and entirely, as even she can deserve to be loved. There is not the
least necessity, for you to tell me, that I am a presumptuous fool or
ass, or anything else that you like to call me, for daring to do such a
thing. But I have dared it; and shall dare it, all my life. And though I
have very little hope of success; it has done me good, and has elevated
me. Not in the social scale, I mean, or any of that stuff, but as a
man--a man who has a right to give his heart, though he may get nothing
but disdain, for it. I have wanted, for a long time, to tell you this;
that we might understand each other. You have seen my reluctance to
accept favours from you--to get put into the House, and so on. I could
not do that, while I kept you in the dark, about a thing likely to
change all your feelings. You cannot say now, that I have humbugged
you."
Sir Roland, though generally so quick of reply, as almost to snap the
words out of one's mouth, took so much time to think, that I felt my
heart beat, like the wing of a bird that is rising.
"Well, Tommy," he said, looking more perplexed than angry, and taking me
by the hand; "you have spoken as a man; and I thank you for it. And you
deserve, that I should speak with equal candour. I will not say anything
to hurt your feelings, more than may be avoided. As regards money, and
character, and education, and kindliness of nature, and warmth of heart,
you are all that a man need desire for his sister. But as regards
birth--my dear fellow, excuse me, you know that I would not say anything
to pain you, about such an accident, if I could help it--there comes the
point, which is hard to get over. We Twentifolds do not pretend to be,
of royal, or even of noble descent, in the direct line; though we have
intermarried often enough with the best blood in England; but this we
can say, that for five hundred years, we have always been of the
foremost rank of commoners, and baronets, ever since such things were.
In the last hundred years, there has only been one taint----"
"Oh, let me hear all about that," I exclaimed; "I am truly delighted,
that there has been that. Was it in the tallow-line, my dear Roly?"
"No, sir, it was not. It was in oil and beeswax," he answered, with a
frown which was very like a smile; "the subject is a sore one, and
pursuit would make it sorer. You had better ask my mother, what the
story is. She tells it, with simplicity and sympathy. But to come back
to tallow--as you coarsely put it. Let everything between us be exactly
as it was. After what you have done for Laura--who would not be alive,
to marry any one, but for you--I shall not attempt to interfere between
you. Like the present Government, I shall 'maintain an attitude of
masterly inactivity;' which may, or may not, have the usual result--to
wit, servile passivity. Not a word about this subject again between us;
until I renew it. Also bear in mind one thing,--even if you succeed with
my mother, and with Laura, you will not have my consent (without which
nothing whatever can come of it) until you have done something great,
and glorious, to win the fame, which leaps over all distinctions."