Having satisfied herself on one point, the astute lady lost no time
making an attempt to satisfy herself on another point quite as
interesting: being convinced that Dick Sheridan had hurried away
because he was in love with Miss Linley, she was anxious to learn if
Miss Linley was in love with any one. The fact that Miss Linley was
walking by the side of the man whom it was announced she had promised
to marry, was not accepted by Mrs. Crewe as any indication of the
direction in which she should look for an answer to the question. Nay,
so astute an observer of life was this lady, that she made up her mind
in an instant not to assume at the outset of her investigation that,
because Betsy Linley had promised to marry Mr. Long, she was therefore
in love with some one else. She could remember instances of young women
being actually devoted to the men whom they had promised to marry. She
had an excellent memory.
She turned her eyes upon Betsy coming up the garden walk, but the
result of her observation was inconclusive; Mr. Long was at that
instant making some remark to the girl, and she had her head slightly
bent toward him, while she listened attentively--smilingly. Clearly
she had not noticed the abrupt departure of Dick Sheridan. There was
nothing in the attentive smile with which she was encouraging the
remark of Mr. Long.
"He does not look a day over sixty," said Mrs. Thrale.
"Nor a day under it," responded Mrs. Cholmondeley. Garrick was quoting
Shakespeare:
"Here comes the lady; O so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint!"
And then Mr. Long and Miss Linley reached the group, and Betsy was
responding with exquisite blushes to the patronising smiles of
the ladies, who greeted her with effusion and Mr. Long with great
self-possession.
Mr. Long was, however, the most self-possessed of the group. There was
gravity as well as dignity in his acceptance of the congratulations of
the party.
"I am the most fortunate of men, indeed," he said, bowing low, and
touching the grass of the border with the sweep of his hat.
"Nay, Mr. Long, do not depreciate your own worth by talking of
fortune," said Mrs. Thrale.
"There is philosophy in your suggestion, madam," said he. "'Twas
feeble of me to make the attempt to fall in with the general tone of
the comments of my friends. Still, there is but one Miss Linley in the
world."
"And you are ungenerous enough, sir, to seek to deprive the world of
that one," cried Mrs. Thrale.
She had failed to perceive the tendency of his remark.
"What, Mrs. Thrale! is't possible that you are weak enough to look for
generosity in a lover?" said Garrick. "Good lud, madam! the very soul
of true love is the most ungenerous essence on earth."
"Ah, you see, madam, Mr. Garrick's love is of the earth earthy; but we
were talking of quite another kind of love, were we not?" said Mr. Long
readily, but not in a tone of badinage.
"We are very well content to be terrestrial," said Mrs. Crewe, lifting
her chin an inch or so in the air.
"I am more ambitious; that is why I am by the side of Miss Linley,"
said Mr. Long.
"Very prettily spoke, sir," said Garrick. "Miss Linley I have always
held to be celestial. Is not that so, Betsy?"
"Indeed, sir, you were good enough to offer me an engagement to sing at
Drury Lane," replied Betsy, with a smile.
Every one laughed, and Garrick gave a wonderful representation of a man
who is completely discomfited by an antagonist.
Mr. Long seemed to think that the moment was a favourable one for
resuming his stroll with Betsy; he had just taken her hand and was
in the act of bowing to the three beautiful ladies who were laughing
archly at Garrick, when a loud laugh that had no merriment in it
sounded at the further side of a line of shrubs, and Mathews reappeared.
Betsy, with a look of apprehension, started and took a step closer to
Mr. Long. Mr. Long's face beamed with pride at that moment, for the
girl's movement suggested her confidence in his power to protect her.
The ladies saw the expression that was on her face, and the glance that
he cast upon her, and there was not one of them who did not envy her,
although Mr. Long was sixty years old.
"Ha, Miss Linley! are you never to be found except in the company of
your grandfather?" cried Mathews, while still a few paces away from the
group. Then, pretending to become aware of the identity of Long at the
same moment, he roared with laughter.
"I swear to you, madam, I thought that you were in the company of your
grandfather," he cried. "Sure, my error was a natural one! I ask you,
Mrs. Thrale, if 'twas not natural that I should take this gentleman for
Miss Linley's grandfather?"
"Mr. Mathews," said Mrs. Thrale, "I have no opinion on such matters,
though I have my own idea of what constitutes a piece of impudence on
the part of a man."
"Ha, Grandfather Long, you hear that?" cried Mathews. "Mrs. Thrale says
she knows what impudence is."
"Then where is the need for you to give her examples of it, sir?" said
Long.
"Any fool could see that she had in her eye the case of an old man who
makes love to a young woman," said Mathews brutally.
"Only a fool would take my words in such a sense, Mr. Mathews," said
Mrs. Thrale.
"Nay, good madam, 'twas but my jest," said Mathews.
"Then let me tell you, sir, 'twas a very sorry jest," said Mrs. Thrale.
"I say 'twas a jest; at the same time, should any gentleman within
earshot feel himself aggrieved by my humour, he will not find Captain
Mathews slow to give him any satisfaction he may demand."
The fellow pursed out his lips, and struck the ground with his cane.
Mr. Long turned his back upon the man and entered smilingly into
conversation with Mrs. Cholmondeley. For a moment he was separated from
Betsy, and Mathews took advantage of that moment to get beside her.
"You are never going to be fool enough to marry a man old enough to be
your grandfather?" said he in a low voice.
She made a movement as if to get beside Mr. Long; but he adroitly
prevented her from carrying out her intention.
"You think I am the man to stand tamely by and see you marry him or any
one else?" he said, putting his face close to hers, his eyes glaring
into her own (he was imitating the attitude and the language of one of
the actors whom he had recently seen at the Bristol theatre).
[Illustration: "You think I am the man to stand tamely by and see you
marry him or any one else?" [_page 72._]
"Why should you be so chagrined, Captain Mathews?" she said. "There
are many girls far more worthy than I am who would feel flattered by
your attentions. I am sure you do not wish to persecute me."
She was, woman-like, hoping by temporising with the man to prevent an
open quarrel. He saw that he had succeeded in making her afraid of him.
"I set my heart on you, I set my soul on you, Betsy Linley, and you
know that your father and mother favoured me; you, and you only, stood
out against me." He had put his face closer to hers, causing her to
shrink back an inch or two. "But you will have me yet--you must--by the
Lord, you shall!" he resumed. "I swear to you that I have set my soul
upon you. Murder--what is murder to such a man as I have become through
you--all through the curse of your beauty! Do you think that I would
hold back my knife for the space of a second from the throat of any man
who was going to take you away from me? I swear to you that I would
kill him--kill him without mercy--and you--you too! My love is of that
sort. I would account killing you the next best thing to wedding you.
I'll do either the one or the other--make up your mind to that--make up
your mind to that! If you would save yourself--and him--and him, mind
you--you will take me; 'tis your only chance."
She was terrified, for she saw that he had reached that point in the
madness of his jealousy which was reached by Othello when he cried:
"Blood, Iago--blood, blood!"
She had seen Garrick in the part, and had been thrilled by his awful
delivery of the words. Even now, in spite of her terror, she did not
fail to be struck with the marvellous accuracy of Garrick's art. She
was now face to face with the real thing--with the man in the clutch
of an overwhelming passion; and yet she was not more terrified than
she had been when Garrick's voice had become hoarse while uttering
those words of murder that had been put into the mouth of Othello by
Shakespeare.
"What is this madness that has come to you?" she cried. "Oh, you
must be quite mad! If you cared ever so little for me you would not
overwhelm me with terror."
"I don't know which would be the sweeter--killing you or wedding you,"
he said. He kept his eyes fixed upon hers for some seconds, and then
he added in a lower tone that chilled her: "By heavens! I do know
now--now!"
She gave a little cry. She had done her best to restrain it, for the
dread of a quarrel taking place between the men was upon her, and in an
instant Mr. Long had turned to her. Another instant and he had thrust
himself between her and Mathews and had taken her hand. He was not
looking at her, but straight into the face of Mathews.
"We must not be late, Miss Linley," he said quietly, "and unless
we hasten onward we shall not be in time to meet our friends at
Bath-Easton. Stand aside, sir, if you please."
Mathews instinctively took a couple of steps back, while Long, still
holding Betsy's hand, bent his head before the ladies and young Captain
Horneck, of the Guards, who had just appeared by the side of his
_fiancée_, Lord Albemarle's daughter.
There was a pause in the conversation passing round that little
group--an electric pause, it seemed; every one appeared to be waiting
for a thunderbolt to fall, for Mathews had a reputation for being an
element of the lurid in the atmosphere of Bath. For a few moments after
Long and Betsy had gone, he seemed uncertain what course to adopt; but
suddenly he appeared to have light granted to him. He bent his malacca
cane until he made both ends meet; then, with an oath, he hurried after
Long and Betsy.
He overtook them before they had gone twenty yards, but while he was
still some way behind them he called out:
"A word with you, Mr. Long, if you please."
Mr. Long turned round.
"I wish no words with you, sir," he said.
"But I wish some with you, sir," said Mathews, coming up to him, "I
wish to give you a word of warning. I wish you to hear me swear that
the day you wed Elizabeth Linley shall be your last on earth."
Long smiled in his face, and then in the terrified face of the girl by
his side.
"What a compliment Mr. Mathews pays to you, Miss Linley!" said he. "My
last day on earth--true; for thenceforth I shall be in heaven. Thank
you, Mr. Mathews."
"In heaven? No, by the Lord, you will find yourself not in heaven,
but----"
"You scoundrel! if you utter one more word I shall hand you over neck
and crop to the hangman," said Long. "You think that your braggadocio
airs have weight with me? I have but to raise my finger and the
handcuffs are about your wrists. I know more about your past life than
you seem to imagine, my good fellow. Now, get out of my way, or I shall
subject you to the humiliation of a public caning."
He grasped his cane firmly, and there was upon his face a look of
determination. Mathews took a step or two back. His jaw had fallen, and
the ferocity of his expression had become tempered by the terror that
appeared in his eyes. Mechanically he bowed, removing his hat while
Long and Betsy walked on. Then he stood staring after them, failing to
recover himself even though he could scarcely have avoided hearing the
laugh that broke from one of the ladies in the group which he had just
left. Some minutes had passed before he ceased gnawing the silver top
of his cane and stalked off in a direction opposite to that which Miss
Linley and Mr. Long had taken.
"A duel! oh no; there will be no duel," cried Garrick in reply to a
suggestion made by one of his group. "Oh no; I have studied men and
their motives to small purpose these thirty years if I could bring
myself to believe that Captain Mathews is the man to challenge Mr. Long
to a duel in such circumstances."
"What! Did not you see the way Mr. Long grasped his cane?" cried Mrs.
Cholmondeley.
"To be sure I did, my dear lady; that is why I am convinced that there
will be no duel," replied Garrick. "We did not hear what Mr. Long said
to the fellow, but we saw how he grasped his cane, and let me assure
you, madam, that the language of cane-grasping is a good deal more
intelligible than the English of our friend Dr. Johnson."
"If there be no duel I am sorry for Mr. Long," said Mrs. Thrale.
Her friends stared at her.
"I should rather be sorry for the elderly gentleman if he had to stand
up before a man twenty-five years his junior, with pistol or small
sword," said Mrs. Crewe.
"Ah, my dear, one must take a less superficial view of men and their
motives--an excellent phrase, Mr. Garrick--if one desire to arrive at
a complete understanding of both," said Mrs. Thrale. "I am sure that
so excellent an observer as Mrs. Crewe will, upon reflection, perceive
that the best chance an elderly gentleman has of captivating the heart
of a young woman is by fighting for her. Mr. Long is clearly aware of
this elementary truth. He is a brave man, and he is ready to risk his
life in order that he may have a chance of winning his lady."
"But he has won her already," said Mrs. Crewe.
"Nay, she has only promised to marry him," said Mrs. Thrale, with the
smile of the sapient one.
"It will be time enough for him to think of winning her after he has
married her," remarked Mrs. Cholmondeley.
"I would not be so sure of that," said Mrs. Thrale. "Procrastination in
a lover can be carried too far. Is not that your opinion, Mr. Garrick?"
"Madam, I feel like the negro who was choked when endeavouring to
swallow a diamond: I am so overwhelmed by the jewels of wisdom which
you have flung before me that I am incapable of expressing any
opinion," said Garrick.
"You are far from being complimentary to Mrs. Thrale if you suggest
that you have failed to assimilate her precious words, sir," said Mrs.
Cholmondeley.
"Nay, 'twas not the negro and the diamond that was in Mr. Garrick's
mind," said Mrs. Crewe. "'Twas Macbeth and his 'Amen.' We have seen
Macbeth's 'Amen' stick in your throat more than once, Mr. Garrick, and
I vow that when Mrs. Thrale asked you just now to say the word that
would hall-mark her wisdom, as it were, the same expression was on your
face."
"Madam, I would scorn to contradict a lady unless I differed from her,"
said Garrick; "but I repeat, there will be no duel."
"Why, who was talking about duels, sir?" inquired Mrs. Crewe. "Lud! Mr.
Garrick, duels was the topic of five minutes ago, and time at Bath is
precious."
"From duels to jewels is not a huge distance," said Mrs. Cholmondeley,
whose pronunciation was not quite free from the Irish brogue which
increased the fascination of her sister, Mrs. Woffington.