THE RIVALS--NEW VERSION
When they reached Shanklin, Mr. Ely was shown into the drawing-room,
while Mr. Ash disappeared upstairs.
"You wait in there," suggested Mr. Ash; "there's a word or two I want
to say to the old lady. I want to get to the bottom of the thing,
because it's quite possible we've come on a wild goose chase after
all. You wait half a minute, and I'll see Miss Lily's sent to you. I
shouldn't be at all surprised to see her come flying headlong into
your arms. Then you'll find out that it's almost worth while to fall
out for the sake of the reconciliation."
Left alone in the drawing-room, Mr. Ely was not by any means so sure.
He was inclined to be sceptical as to the young lady's flying leap
into his arms. And as to falling out for the sake of the
reconciliation--well, there might be something, perhaps, in that, but
he would like to have felt as sure about the reconciliation as he did
about the falling out.
He seated himself on an ottoman, thrust his hands into his trousers
pockets, and stared at his patent toes. A minute passed, more than a
minute, more than five minutes, indeed, still he was left alone. He
looked at his watch. Ten minutes had elapsed since he entered the
room.
"This is a pretty state of things; ten living minutes have I sat
stewing here! And Ash said that in less than half a minute he wouldn't
be surprised to see her in my arms. It looks like it!"
He got up and surveyed the apartment.
"I wonder where she is? And where the other fellow is? That's the man
to whom I ought to apply for information. I lay my hat that she's done
some bounding into his arms since yesterday. That's a pleasant thought
to think about the woman who's promised to be your wife!"
Mr. Ely disconsolately paced the room.
"And to think that I paid twenty pounds for an engagement-ring! And I
might have forked up forty-five! That's what gets at me! And I've got
Rosenbaum's writ in my coat pocket. Damages laid at thirty thousand
pounds! Oh, lor! This is a nice day's work I've done!"
Pausing before the fireplace he leaned his elbow on the mantelshelf,
and his head upon his hand, and groaned.
"Excuse me, but can you tell me where Miss Truscott is?" There was a
voice behind him. Mr. Ely turned.
"Hallo, Ely! I had no idea that it was you! How are you, dear old
man?"
Mr. Ely turned--metaphorically--into a pillar of ice. Into a pillar of
red-hot ice, if we may confound our metaphors. For while his exterior
demeanour was several degrees below zero, his interior economy left
boiling point at the post.
A gentleman had strolled into the room through the opened window--Mr.
William Summers. Mr. William Summers as large as life, and larger.
There were no signs of guilt upon his countenance; certainly there
were none in his bearing. He held a soft crush hat in one hand, the
other he held out to Mr. Ely.
"Well, I'm--hanged!"
"I say, Ely, what's the row?"
Speechless with indignation, Mr. Ely turned and strode towards the
door. When he reached it he paused, and turning again, he gazed at the
intruder. The intruder did not seem to be at all abashed.
"That's the way they used to do it at the Coburg. Exit vanquished
vice."
"Sir!"
"That's a little Coburg, too. They used to roll their r's."
Mr. Summers tugged at his beard. Retracing his steps, Mr. Ely strode
on until he was in a measurable distance of Mr. Summers's nose.
"Understand this once for all: you are a perfect stranger, sir, to
me."
"That's all right; I thought I was. Excuse one stranger speaking to
another, but could you tell me where Miss Truscott is?"
Mr. Ely gasped. "This--this beats anything I ever heard of! Mr.
Summers!"
"That's right, Ely, I'm awake. Wire in and lay me flat; I sha'n't mind
a bit."
"In all this there may be something funny, sir, which commends it to
your mind--if you have a mind--but I see nothing comic in desecrating
nature's most sacred ties and in corrupting the innocence of youth."
"More don't I, Ely; not the way you put it--and I couldn't put it
better if I tried."
"Are you aware that Miss Truscott has promised to be my wife?"
"Ah, that was a mistake!"
"A mistake! What the devil do you mean?"
"You see, Ely, I've been in love with her a good twelve months--aye,
that and more. I fell in love with her the first moment she came
across my path."
"What the dickens do I care if you've been in love with her twelve
years? More shame you! Do you consider that a justification to the
scoundrel who betrays another fellow's wife?"
"In love with her in a sense you do not understand--in love with her
with my whole life."
"What on earth has that to do with me?"
"I have lived for her, and worked, and hoped, and dreamed, until she
has grown to be the centre of my being. Does she mean all that to
you?"
"What business have you to ask me such a question? When you have
ruined Mrs. Jones do you put a similar inquiry to Jones? I should
think Jones would feel that you were a logical sort of person if you
did."
"Ah, but here she is not your wife."
"But she's going to be!"
"As I live she never will."
"Hang it, sir; don't I tell you that she promised?"
"And don't I tell you that was a mistake. If you will keep cool I will
give you an explanation. If you decline to listen to an explanation,
you must be content to realise the fact."
"Look here, Mr. Summers, you are a sort of man with whom I have had
very little to do----"
"My misfortune--not your fault."
"But I suppose you have some idea of common decency, if you have none
of honour----"
"I hope I have."
"And I ask you if you think it's decent, directly a woman has promised
a man to be his wife, to go behind his back and induce the woman to
dishonour herself and him?"
"But that is not what I have done."
"It is what you have done. One day Miss Truscott promises to be my
wife, the next--directly my back is turned--you come and persuade her
to be false to herself and me."
"My good Ely, there is one factor you are omitting from your
calculations, and that is--love."
"Which with you stands higher--love or honesty?"
"Oh, they both go hand-in-hand. Would it have been honest for her to
have married you when she loved me?"
"Pooh! Stuff and nonsense! I never heard such impudence! What the
dickens do you mean by saying that the woman who has promised to be my
wife loves you?"
"You perceive, it is from that that I saved you--that curse of all
existence, that canker which eats into the very root of life--a
loveless marriage. But there are not many signs of gratitude, that I
can see."
And Mr. Summers sighed. Mr. Ely gasped.
"Look here, Mr. Summers, I am not a fighting man."
"No?"
"But if I were----!"
"Yes. If you were? Go on!"
"By George, sir, if I were----!" At this moment Mr. Ash entered the
room. "I'm sorry, Ash, that you have come. You've interrupted the most
agreeable interview that I ever had in all my life."
"I'm surprised, Mr. Summers, after what has passed, to see you here."
"Why? I assure you I'm not at all surprised at seeing you."
Rising, Mr. Summers held out his hand. But Mr. Ash declined to see it.
"Oh, take his hand! For goodness' sake take his hand! Shake it off his
wrist! Don't let him suppose that you're not delighted to have the
pleasure."
"Our friend Ely----"
"Your friend Ely! What the dickens, sir, do you mean by calling me
your friend?"
Very red in the face, Mr. Ely struck an attitude in front of Mr.
Summers which was probably intended to express ferocity. Mr. Summers
tugged at his beard, and smiled. Mr. Ash interposed.
"I can hardly think, Mr. Summers, that it is necessary for me to
suggest that your presence is not required here."
"My dear fellow, I am only waiting to obtain a little information."
"What information can you possibly expect to receive?"
"I only want to know where Miss Truscott is."
"Yes, that's all! That's all he wants to know! A more modest request I
never heard! He only wants to know where my wife is!"
"Excuse me, Ely, but Miss Truscott is not your wife!"
"But she's going to be!"
"That she will never be!"
"Hang it, sir!" Mr. Ely rushed forward. But again Mr. Ash thought it
advisable to interpose.
"Mr. Summers, be so kind as to leave this house."
"Oh, don't turn him out! For goodness' sake don't turn him out! Pray
tell him where the lady is! And also acquaint him with the situation
of the spoons! And entreat him, next time he calls, to bring his
burglar friends, and other relatives."
Mr. Ash endeavoured to pacify his friend. But the attempt was vain.
Mr. Ely's blood was up. His wrongs were more than he could bear.
"My dear Ely, I beg that you will not pay the slightest attention to
this--gentleman."
"Attention! Not me! I'm not paying the attention! It's he! And to my
young woman, by the Lord!"
Still tugging at his beard, Mr. Summers laughed and turned away.
"I'm sorry you cannot give me the information I require. And you
really are inhospitable, Ash, you really are. But never mind, I'll
have my revenge! When you come to see me I'll not show you the door;
nor Ely, if he'll condescend to call."
He had reached the window when the door opened, and Mrs. Clive
appeared.
"Ah, here is Mrs. Clive! I am sure that Mrs. Clive will take pity on a
man, especially a man in the forlorn situation which I am. May I ask
if you can tell me where I am likely to find Miss Truscott?"
"Mr. Summers!"
Mrs. Clive's attitude was a study. It was as though all the pokers in
England were down her back. But Mr. Summers did not show any sign of
discomposure.
"Surely you will not be hard upon a man, especially upon a man in
love. Consider our position. I seek Lily, she seeks me. Life's
summer-time is short. You would not have us waste its sweetness?"
"Mr. Summers, I am more amazed than I can say."
"Oh, don't be amazed! For goodness' sake don't be amazed! And don't be
hard upon a man--especially upon a man in love! Consider his position,
and don't waste the sweetness of life's summer-time--oh, don't, for
gracious' sake!" Mr. Ely pulled up his shirt-collar and "shot" his
cuffs. "I reckon I'm spending one of the pleasantest half hours I ever
had in all my life."
"Mrs. Clive, will you not listen to the all-conquering voice, the
voice of love?"
"Mr. Summers, I must decline to listen to another word. And I am
amazed to think that you should attempt to address me at all,
especially as I have given you to understand that our acquaintance,
sir, had ceased."
"Ceased! And I am going to marry your niece! Could you so divide the
family? She who loves you so! And whom, for her sweet sake and
Pompey's, I love too?"
"Well, this--this does beat cock-fighting! That allusion to Pompey was
one of the most touching things I've heard. And he is going to marry
your niece, so you and I, Ash, had better go back to town."
And again Mr. Ely's collar and cuffs came into play. Mr. Ash advanced.
"Mr. Summers, I have already requested you to go. You can scarcely
wish us to use force."
"No, not force--not that. If it must be then--goodbye! After all,
parting is such sweet sorrow. Goodbye, Mrs. Clive, you will weep for
me when I am gone. Ta-ta, Ely, we shall meet at Philippi--I leave
you--yes, you three!--perchance to wrangle, in very truth thinking
angry thoughts--in such an air of discord, too! While I--I go under
the shadow of the trees, where love lies dreaming--and waiting perhaps
for me. If I meet Miss Truscott, Ely--and I shall under the trysting
tree--I will tell her that if you had been a fighting man you
certainly would have murdered me."